Blumiere and Timpani
by Sandrock91
Summary: The account of Blumiere and Timpani before the events of Super Paper Mario. Dive into Blumiere's thoughts as he struggles between his uncontrollable feelings for Timpani and his desire to please his father.
1. First Encounter

**Disclaimer: All respective characters copyright Nintendo.**

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**Chapter 1: First Encounter**

Eerie, spotted lights swirled around Blumiere as he became lost in the darkness. Somewhere in the distance, it seemed as if a large bell had resounded. Gradually, the spotted lights began to fade, and he became more conscious of his surroundings. His memories began to creep back into his mind.

He had been running, running from some fanged beast… a "dog" as the humans called them. He hit the top of a steep cliff, too steep to climb down. Desperate, he spread his black cape and jumped, hoping he could glide over the edge. But the cliff flew swiftly above him, and the hard ground below grew closer and closer, until…

In a panic, he flailed his arms to block the fall, screaming in anticipation for the impact. His memories faded, and he found himself in a small room, facing a solid wooden wall. The sudden shift in gravity disoriented him as he realized he wasn't falling but sitting in a bed. The room he was in was commonplace, much less sophisticated than the room he had back home. Even more repulsive was the window on the opposite side of the room, spilling the glare of sunlight onto the floor.

In response to his apparent screams, someone came rushing in from the door on his left. "Oh, dear! Are you okay? What happened?"

Blumiere turned to find the source of the voice and found himself looking into the face of a human girl. He nearly retched in disgust. "A human? What is this?" The despicable creature reached down to touch his shoulder, but he turned away quickly. "Don't touch me!" As he turned, his arm exploded with pain, and he writhed in the bed in agony. Only then did he become aware of his injuries.

"Stop!" said the girl. "You mustn't move so much! I found you at the cliff base. You took quite a fall. Your wounds haven't healed yet."

He glared at her defiantly. "What do you care? I'm of the Tribe of Darkness. No human would care about us."

"What would that matter?" she spoke sincerely. "Anyone with a heart wouldn't ignore an injured soul." He continued to scowl at her, expecting his resentful glare to intimidate her, but she never wavered or retreated from him, and he began to feel rather foolish after a few moments.

Lying back down, he contemplated what she said. She couldn't have meant it. "I don't repulse you?"

She shook her head. "Of course not." He looked deep into her blue eyes, searching them for mischief, some form of deceit. Surely she couldn't be speaking honestly. But no matter how hard he looked, he came up empty-handed. She had spoken with pure sincerity.

She moved away and retrieved the blankets that had covered him, replacing them over his body. He felt uneasy allowing her to tend to him, but he did not stop her. "Now get some rest. Try not to move around so much, okay?" She smiled at him momentarily and then turned around and walked toward the door.

As Blumiere watched her, he could not help but wonder about the strange girl. How could a human, especially one so young, care about someone as hideous—to the humans at least—as himself? Suddenly, he was filled with an urge of curiosity. He had to know more about her. Just as she disappeared behind the door, he blurted, "Wait!" She stopped and reappeared just outside the room. His words caught in his throat, hindered by the undignified concept of talking to a human. However, acknowledging that his dignity had been long lost, he swallowed what little pride he had left and asked, "What is your name?"

She smiled coyly and replied, "Timpani. And you?"

"Blumiere," he replied back.

"Well Blumiere, it is a pleasure to meet you." She paused for a moment and then added, "It may take awhile for those wounds to heal. You're welcome to stay as long as you need to." She stood there briefly, as if wanting to say something else. After a few moments, she curtsied awkwardly and closed the door.

Blumiere sighed deeply and lay back down in a comfortable position. Despite his initial displeasure, the room did provide a very warm atmosphere. It was much more peaceful than the environment he had been accustomed to. And the girl Timpani, strange as she seemed, was very hospitable. Perhaps the next couple of days would not be so bad after all.

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**The first chapter is up and ready! Being honest, I didn't think SPP did their story justice (still an awesome game, though!), so I've decided to create a more elaborate account of what happened between Timpani and Blumiere. It's more of a serious account rather than a comedy, focusing on Blumiere's thoughts and emotions between Timpani and his father. I'll have the second chapter up soon. For now, please R&R!**


	2. Coming of Age

**Chapter 2: Coming of Age**

"Master Blumiere, are you well?" Blumiere shook himself from his thoughts and faced his butler. "You've been sitting on the balcony for over an hour. Your father is beginning to worry."

Blumiere grunted in apparent annoyance. "And why would my father need to know my reasons for every little thing I do, Beeves?"

Beeves bowed humbly and replied, "My apologies, Master Blumiere, but Master Beauregard has noticed your frequent visits to this place. He wonders if you are starting to feel… ill."

Blumiere looked down at his butler. Even at his full height, Beeves stood only waist-high to his master, much like the rest of their servants. His head was quite bulbous, and his sharp blue eyes brightly contrasted his black, transparent skin. Normally, eyes such as his were considered hideous in their household, but they had become rather appealing to Blumiere recently. He calmed himself and replied, "No, I'm sorry. You're right. I… haven't been myself. I'll talk to my father. You may go."

"Thank you, Master," said Beeves as he disappeared into the ground. Blumiere gazed out once more, his eyes falling on the distant city to the west. It had been three weeks since that first morning. It had taken more than six days for him to be well enough to head back home. Some of his more serious bruises bothered him still. Throughout the better part of that week, Timpani had never faltered in her kindness, nor did she ever cringe or glare at him in disgust. By the time he was ready to head home, he had been reluctant to leave her, but he had assumed the feeling would pass in time. Now, two weeks later, he only regretted his decision more. Every day, he contemplated methods of sneaking back into the town to see her again. Unfortunately, in the days since his last fiasco, his father's watchful eyes had never wavered from him. Even now, it seemed, his father was already suspicious of his visits to the west balcony.

Foregoing his plans for now, he glided back into the castle to seek his father. It was not long before he detected Beauregard's booming voice echoing across the hall. "No, no! Tonight is a special occasion. Olivier will be furious if I don't attend his banquet."

Blumiere glided soundlessly along the halls, listening intently to his father's voice. Finally, as he turned the hallway's last corner, he found his father marching through the enormous den, wearing his usual austere white cloak, coupled with a tall, similarly colored hat perched on top of his dark head. In his right hand was a slick, red cane with a brilliant, light blue jewel embedded atop. As he walked, he placed his scepter in front of him, striking the ground in rhythm with his pace.

Behind him scurried their secretary Nastasia. She wore a humble white business shirt and grey pants, and large glasses were perched on her nose. Her red hair was tied up in its usual bun to be kept out of her eyes as she scribbled hastily into her notebook. Neither she nor Beauregard had noticed Blumiere walking in as they continued their conversation. "Alright, Master Beauregard," Nastasia said. "So, we'll schedule the dinner with Olivier at its normal time. Perhaps we could schedule the meeting with Emil afterwards."

"No, that will never work," said Beauregard without missing a beat. "You know Olivier. The banquet could last for hours as far as we know."

"Okay, so we'll put a rain check on Emil for now and schedule in a formal apology tomorrow morning. I'll squeeze it in between breakfast and your daily travels." Nastasia scribbled in the last few words into her notebook and closed it, placing it and the pen back into her pocket. With such a small book, Blumiere couldn't help but wonder how she managed to fit everything into it.

Beauregard finally turned around and noticed Blumiere standing in the corner. "Ah, my son! Just the man I wanted to see. Where have you been?"

Blumiere hesitated for a moment, preparing himself for the worst. "I was out on the balcony, thinking to myself."

As expected, his father's face became deformed with frustration. "Good lord! What could you possibly be thinking about for so long? Well, no matter. That's actually the reason I wanted to speak to you." He walked up to his son, almost puffing out his chest as if to show off his expensive cloak. It was, Blumiere assumed, an unintentional habit of his. "Now Blumiere, I'm not going to be around forever. Someday, you'll be left with this estate and all these servants. It becomes tiring work, and you'll need to be prepared." Blumiere tried not to cringe at the thought. While most people seemed to enjoy their inheritance, the concept terrified him.

Still, he did not want to displease his father. "I am prepared, Father."

Beauregard simply laughed. "If you were truly prepared, you wouldn't be out on that wretched balcony every day with your silly daydreams. You've long outgrown that, and you should learn to act your age. You're almost a man now, Blumiere. Start to act like one." Blumiere's objections raged inside his head. _Since when am I too immature to dream?_ However, he kept silent, willing the conversation to end as quickly as possible.

Beauregard shook his head in disappointment. "Oh dear, I'm really not good at this. I just worry about you. Ever since you ran off to that human village—"

"That again?" Blumiere interjected. "I told you it was a mistake. It will never happen again."

"I would hope not! What were you even doing in a horrid place like that?"

Blumiere could not suppress a groan this time. He was tired of this same conversation. "It was just a joke. I was going to torment the humans a bit and then be on my way."

"But it nearly cost you your life!" Beauregard repeated for the umpteenth time. "Imagine if a human had found you! He would have killed you on the spot!" Blumiere felt uneasy hearing this. He had told his father of the accident but refrained to speak of the human who had rescued him. Instead, he claimed a Magiblot from a local village had stumbled across him. It was a dumb lie, but his father never questioned it.

Beauregard sighed hopelessly. "Blumiere, you have almost come of age. In a few months, you will step into adulthood and start your own independent life."

"I know, Father. I'll be fine."

"…Just promise me you'll never go into the human village again." Blumiere rolled his eyes. "This is serious, Blumiere! Those humans only regard us as vile. They will show no mercy if they have any advantage over you."

_She did_, he thought to himself. Looking back at his father, he replied, "For the tenth time, I promise."

To his relief, his father glanced at his watch and gasped. "Oh, dear. I've wasted too much time, already. I suppose this will have to do, but I wish to speak more on this matter soon. Blumiere, it's time you started to act like the man you're supposed to be. One weak leader can spell the end of the Tribe of Darkness." He turned to leave, but then stopped for a moment. Facing Blumiere one more time, he added, "My servants will know if you have been wandering again. You are not to leave the castle until I return, understood?" Blumiere nodded. With that, Beauregard tipped his hat, turned to the side and disappeared in a flash.

"He seems to be in a good mood," Nastasia commented nonchalantly. "This time, you only made him half as angry as he can get."

Blumiere turned to her in annoyance. "You're not helping." She shrugged and turned to walk away. Suddenly, as Blumiere looked at her, an idea crept into his mind. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. His only worry was whether he could trust Nastasia with the secret. Considering the consequences, he decided it was worth the risk.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "Nastasia, could you do me a favor?"

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**And thus ends the second chapter of Blumiere's travels. I was worried this chapter wouldn't turn out very good, but I think it went well. It surprised me how immature Blumiere can be sometimes... (I know that may sound weird). Tune in later for the next chapter! I'll try to update every week!**


	3. Secret Rendezvous

**Chapter 3: Secret Rendezvous**

_Curses!_ Blumiere thought to himself as he raced through the desolate park. He glanced behind him one more time, making sure no one had followed him. The sun had set long ago, and the road he had traveled was pitch black, but his glowing eyes allowed him to see clearly through the darkness. Besides, the bright red eyes of his assailers would have been visible for a mile.

_I really need to find an easier way to sneak out,_ he thought. He calmed himself, though. Even if anyone had been following him, they would not have ventured here… Not this far off from the border. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed himself, finally convinced that he was alone.

Alone… He scanned the area again, and suddenly the word was not so comforting. Where was Timpani? He whirled around, looking every direction, but he did not see any sign of life around the park. As he searched, paranoid thoughts began to cloud his mind. Had she received the letters? Did Nastasia even deliver them? Or perhaps she simply refused to read something written by him. Perhaps she had been glad to finally be rid of him that day.

He walked inside a little further, but the fear inside him continued to boil. _She deceived me_, he thought. _She didn't want to see me again, after all_. Years of his father's seemingly bigoted claims suddenly became relevant. It was just like a human to deceive him like that. While he wandered through the darkness wondering about her, she was probably sitting at home, laughing away at his pathetic invitation. _That's just what a human would do. That nasty, lying, worthless little—_

"Blumiere?" Stunned, he turned around towards one of the benches. Sitting on the bench was Timpani, wearing a light green dress that came down below her knees. Her brown hair lay straight, stopping just at the small of her back. As he looked into her eyes, the anger in him dwindled away, quickly replaced by a sudden sense of uneasiness. Seeing her there, he became extremely grateful that he had long ago killed his habit of talking out loud.

"Timpani," he said. Feeling suddenly awkward for standing in the middle of the road, Blumiere took his seat on the bench across from her. As they sat in silence for a while, he noticed that her lips were pursed tightly into thin lines, as if she seemed annoyed at him. It surprised him. He had never seen her angry before and wondered what was bothering her.

In answer to his thoughts, she replied plainly, "You're late."

"Ah yes," he said. "My father caught me. Sneaking out of the castle wasn't easy after that…" He laughed humorlessly, but she remained firm, her forehead creased in agitation. He was taken aback at first, thinking it must have been silly for something like that to anger her. On the other hand, considering his earlier thoughts, he couldn't necessarily blame her.

Finally, the tension in her face eased, and her expression became softer. "I… I was worried you wouldn't come."

At this, Blumiere laughed unintentionally. He had certainly not expected her to say that. She glared at him in frustration, and he immediately regretted his action. "I'm sorry. That just… surprised me, that's all." He looked into her deep blue eyes again, as if trying to decipher what she might be thinking. He could see the aggravation that he had unwillingly caused. But her eyes lacked something, something that every other human revealed whenever they saw his face. In her eyes, there was no fear. She neither flinched nor broke contact with him, but rather gazed back into his eyes… his red, glowing eyes. At this point, he could only wonder what she thought of him. "You are a strange girl. You know what I am and yet you do not seem afraid."

She shook her head. "I don't care what you are. I just…" she paused for a moment, biting her lower lip. Taking a short breath, she continued, "I just wanted to see you. Is that so wrong?"

The truth had come out. He still couldn't believe what he'd heard, but there was no reason to doubt her. "No," he replied. "No, of course not." Hesitating for just a moment, he confessed, "I wanted to see you, too." The two of them remained quiet, each pondering what the other had said. A few silent minutes passed between them, neither one knowing what to say next. Finally, Blumiere spoke up. "I guess the letters could only go so far, eh?"

At last, Timpani smiled, which relieved Bllumiere. "Well, they were a nice gesture," she said. "But, maybe you could have had someone else send them."

He thought back to his secretary and feared what might have occurred between them. "Nastasia was the only one I could trust. It wouldn't be the first time she kept a secret for me." He shifted uncomfortably. He glanced at Timpani to see if she had noticed, but she showed no sign of it either way.

"I suppose," she said skeptically. "She's just so…" She gazed upward, as if trying to find the right word in the air above her.

"Tightly wound?" Blumiere suggested.

She laughed. It was a high-pitched, cheerful laugh, lasting only a second before trailing off. As she did, her cheeks became flush, and her eyes glanced shyly towards the ground. It seemed like a strange sound at first, and Blumiere realized that this was the first time he had ever heard her laugh. He was suddenly struck with the hope that it would not be the last.

Their eyes met once more, but as Blumiere looked into her eyes, he realized he was no longer tense around her. He was as calm as if he had known her for years. "Blumiere, do you mind if I sit next to you?"

At this, he smiled. He would have liked nothing more than that. Standing up from his seat, he said, "Please do, Timpani." She stood from her spot and crossed the road to him. As she took her seat, Blumiere followed suit beside her.

As the night wore on, they continued their conversation in the serene park. The residents of the two towns, the humans from the west and the men of darkness from the east, slept peacefully, ignorant to the meeting that occurred between them.

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**Very sorry this is late! I've had a lot of stuff to do lately. It was hard to get creative with this chapter, but I hope it turned out okay. I'll try to get the next one up by Saturday. Until then, please R&R!**


	4. Horizons

**Chapter 4: Horizons**

"_Don't you just love sunsets?"_

"_I can't say… I've never seen one. It's always dark around my castle."_

"_Really? So this is your first time? Well, what do you think of it?"_

"…_I think it's the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen."_

"_Haha! Wow, you really are new to this."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?'_

"_Don't worry about it. I like that about you…"_

These conversations rebounded inside Blumiere's mind daily. Every moment he had spent with Timpani was etched into his mind, and he deemed it his mission to remember every minute of it. Even now, he gazed out at the city, where the sun, normally hidden from the castle, barely shown as it set over the horizon. The spell pervading the city didn't reach quite far enough to drown it out at the end of the day. Blumiere found it surprising that he had never noticed it before.

Smiling, he walked back towards his room, walking a bit faster than usual in his excitement. The more he had met her, the more often he wanted to go back. Even when he wasn't there, she was all he could think about. All he wanted was to talk to her, to hear her voice again, even to just see her smiling face.

As he rounded the door to the hallway, he ran into Nastasia. "Blumiere?" She glanced over to the hall from where he had just walked. "Spending time out on the balcony again, I see?"

"Just for a little while," he replied giddily. "I've been everywhere, really. It's like I'm walking through the castle for the first time."

Nastasia grunted and stuck her nose back down into her tiny notebook. "Should I schedule a memory session for your amnesia, then?" It was times like this that Blumiere wasn't sure whether to take her seriously. Still, he snatched her notebook from her excitedly, and she nearly panicked. "Hey! Give that back! This is no… way… to behave!" she finished, panting as she tried to lunge for the book, but Blumiere kept it out of her reach.

"Why do you always have your head in this book?" he asked, waving it in front of her. "Everything you do is about scheduling and making time."

Nastasia snatched back her notebook disdainfully. "I'm a secretary!" she nearly shouted. "It's sort of my job."

"You need to look beyond the book. Look around at the world." He gazed around the dark interior of the hallway. Even the black, dreary walls seemed to shine like the sun to him. "There are so many things I haven't even taken the time to see."

Nastasia propped open her book hastily. "I'll schedule a therapy session then…"

"Stop it!" he shouted, though not meanly. "Take a look. Just for a moment, don't think of the time or what you should be doing. I guarantee you'll start to see things differently."

"Like what?" she snapped impatiently, glaring at him through her wide-rimmed glasses.

Blumiere pondered for a moment and then replied, "For instance, I've noticed you look quite lovely this evening." She was flustered, not expecting any such comment. "And the thing is, you've probably looked lovely every other evening, too. I just haven't noticed until now. That's what I mean!" He began to walk down the hallway towards his room. Not dropping his eyes from her, he continued, "Just broaden your horizons a bit. You won't be disappointed."

He sidestepped into his room, smiling all the way. Nastasia simply stood rooted to the ground, still astounded by Blumiere's compliment. Alone again, Blumiere's thoughts wandered back to his invaluable recollections.

"_So when am I going to meet your legendary father?"_

"_You really need to stop asking that."_

"_Come on, Blumiere. You can't hide me from him forever, you know. I just want an introduction, that's all."_

"_Timpani, if my father even knew about you, he'd likely burn down the whole city!"_

"_You're exaggerating. What about my father? I let you meet him, right?"_

"_Yes, I was flattered by how thrilled he was to see me."_

"_He just needed to warm up to you a bit. I'm sure your father will be the same way. If he's anything like you, he'll have no choice but to welcome me."_

"_How do you figure that?"_

"_Well, it's obvious that you're desperately in love with me."_

"_Ha! Really?"_

"_Yes, as a matter of fact. And if your father's anything like you, he can't help but feel the same way."_

Blumiere laughed aloud. It certainly was in Timpani's nature to see the best in everyone. It came as no surprise, he supposed. That was how they had met after all. Perhaps she may have been right about Beauregard.

"Blumiere!" His father's booming voice echoed through the halls once more.

_Speak of the devil, _Blumiere thought as Beauregard rushed hastily into the room. Glaring down at Blumiere, he spat, "You think you can hide your secrets from me?"

This did not unnerve Blumiere, who was used to hearing his father give such accusations to everybody. "What do you mean, Father?" he asked, trying to act clueless to his father's anger.

"Don't try to play dumb with me," said Beauregard, waving a finger in the air to stress his point. "Now, I realize why you've been sneaking out at night." An uneasy feeling came over Blumiere now. _He can't know_. "That's right… I know about her, and don't try to deny it!" Blumiere's arm began shaking uncontrollably. His stomach lurched in fear. He wasn't ready to confess to this. Not yet. "Now, as your father, I demand some answers! You're going to tell me everything that's been happening between you and this girl! And don't even think about sparing the juicy details. I want to know everything!"

The lurch in Blumiere's stomach loosened, and he relaxed himself, although his heart still raced twice as fast as normal. Smiling, he looked up and said, "Nice try, Mimi. You almost had me convinced."

Beauregard's angered face fell into a state of disappointment. "Oh, poo. I thought I had it this time." Sensing Mimi's character in his father's booming voice was amusing to Blumiere. Suddenly, the tall figure disappeared behind a veil of black smoke. As it cleared, a significantly smaller figure appeared in its place. It was a small girl, about the same height as Nastasia. Her entire body was light green, including her hair, which was tied up in two pigtails on either side of her head. She wore her usual maid uniform, which was primarily black and laced with white material on the edges. A small white bow was perched on top of her head. "After two years of working here, you'd think I'd have found out how to trick you by now."

Seeing her distraught face made Blumiere laugh. "Cheer up. You're getting better."

"Then what gave me away?" she whined.

"Well, most boys aren't really interested in 'juicy details', nor would they ever use that phrase in public."

Mimi stuck her chin up. "Hmph. Well, boys are weird." Blumiere chuckled in reply but did not comment. Suddenly, Mimi's face lit up, and she leapt to her feet next to him. "So what's the sitch? Who is she? What does she look like?" Her eyes were wide as her curiosity overwhelmed her.

Blumiere glanced at her, concern etching his face. "What makes you think I'm seeing someone, anyway?"

She rolled her eyes impatiently. "Come on. Everybody in the castle knows. Why else would you be sneaking out every night?"

The familiar beast in Blumiere's stomach raged again. "Everyone?" She nodded eagerly. "Even my father?"

Now she understood. "Oh, don't worry. That silly geezer man probably doesn't even know how many servants he has, he's out so often. I don't think he's even aware you've been sneaking out."

Blumiere laughed. "Well, I'd prefer to keep it that way if you don't mind."

"Come ooooooooonnnn…" she whined again. "You can trust me. I always keep my secrets." Blumiere tilted his head skeptically. "…Well, I keep the important ones!" she confessed. Blumiere shook his head despondently. "Look, you can trust me," she said in her sickly sweet, innocent voice. "If that doodoo head Beauregard ever asks anything, I'll tell him he can take his questions and—"

"And what?" The real Beauregard glided through the room behind her. Mimi squealed and turned around to face her master.

"M-M-Master Beauregard… I didn't know you… uh…I think I need to, uh…"

"Clean the tables?" he suggested. Nodding in agreement, she curtsied hastily and scurried out of the room in a flash. Sure that she was gone, Beauregard sat down next to Blumiere and sighed dejectedly. "Why haven't I fired that blasted maid?"

"Because she's good at what she does, and she keeps the other servants in good spirits." Beauregard grunted in reluctant agreement and became silent, staring at the opposite wall as if he had forgotten why he was here. "Did you want to see me, Father?"

Beauregard stared for a moment longer before snapping his attention to his son. "Ah yes, Blumiere. I just thought I'd check up on how you're doing with your studies."

Normally, this sort of question would annoy Blumiere, but he refused to let even his father get in the way of his happiness. Avoiding his usual sarcasm, he replied, "Quite well. I've been learning a lot lately."

"Have you?" he asked skeptically. "I've heard differently around the castle."

"I'll show you," he stated, eager to prove his point. Closing his eyes in concentration, he mumbled the proper words and waited. The tingling in his body told him that his spell was working. Looking down, he saw with satisfaction that his body had completely disappeared! He undid the spell and raised his arms up with bravado. "And that's not it," he added. Uttering another incantation, he turned to the side and the world vanished before his eyes, blurring into a dark, swirling mold and coming together again into a different area of the room. He checked to make sure his body was still intact (it had taken a couple painful attempts in the past), and grinned widely as he realized he had teleported flawlessly.

Beauregard opened his mouth to speak, but Blumiere stopped him, eager to show off just one more trick. Remembering the final incantation, he spoke one more time and felt a sort of muffled energy surround him. Confident of his success, he knocked on the wall loudly. The sound was audible to him, but he could tell from Beauregard's impressed features that every noise Blumiere made was mute to him.

"You see?" Blumiere said excitedly. "You don't need to worry! I'll have mastered the whole book in no time at all!" Beauregard simply smiled amusedly and tapped his ears. Realizing that he was still under the spell, Blumiere quickly undid the hex and repeated his words.

Beauregard simply looked back at him in deep concern, the small smile still on his face. "It's not the rate of your learning I'm worried about. It's the ones you've decided to learn first that concern me." Blumiere looked back at him confusedly. Beauregard continued, "Despite what Mimi might say, I'm not as ignorant as the servants may think I am. I know what happens within my own castle."

Blumiere's heart sank once more. Did he know the truth after all? Unwilling to reveal too much, he simply replied, "Does it matter much? I haven't neglected my studies."

Beauregard shook his head. "You could be much more powerful than you are now. Your night travels have exhausted you, and you spend your study hours sleeping away. And I don't think I need to mention how much you think about her even when you are studying."

Blumiere gulped. "So, I guess you do know?"

Beauregard smiled humorlessly. "Even someone as 'ignorant' as I can tell when his own son's fallen for a lady." Blumiere had no answer for this, though it surprised him how well Beauregard had taken the news, considering his hatred for humans. "You sort of remind me of myself," he continued. "Young and confused…"

Despite his good mood, this comment offended Blumiere. "With respect, Father, I'm not confused."

Beauregard hesitated, apparently realizing his folly. "I apologize. That was rather harsh…" He paused, trying to find a better way to explain himself. "It's just… I let my emotions get in the way of what's important. It was enjoyable, I'll admit; the excitement, the new thoughts. It was a very pleasurable experience."

Blumiere smiled. His father didn't know that Timpani was a human. Perhaps, at least for now, he could keep it that way. In response to his father's statement, he replied, "How can that be such a bad thing?"

Beauregard paused again, unwilling to misstate himself. "Blumiere, you mustn't let these feelings take hold of you. They are tempting, yes, but you'll lose sight of who you are, what you're trying to achieve."

"And what am I trying to achieve?"

Beauregard gestured to the walls surrounding them. "This! All of it! One day, I'll be gone from here, and you will be the one to take my place, to continue in my footsteps. If you are to take charge of this and bring honor to this family, you need to rid your mind of distractions and follow this path."

Blumiere considered this thought for a moment and replied, "And what if this isn't what I want?" Beauregard's face crumpled up in confusion. "What if I'd prefer to keep what I have now? What if she's all I need?"

Beauregard gave a short, bitter laugh. "My son, do you hear what you're saying? You're not thinking straight. This is our legacy! Without all this, the wealth, the power, what are we? No better than those poor, filthy humans, that's what!" Blumiere's spirits dropped at hearing his father's raging insults. Somehow, it hurt now more than it ever had to hear him say it. "If you'd only grasp how much I've sacrificed to gain all of this, you'd understand how valuable it really is, more so than this infatuation you have." Blumiere did not reply, but looked back into his father's eyes with a blank expression. Calming down, Beauregard continued, "You've come so far, Blumiere. There's so much you've accomplished already, and there's so much more you can achieve. If your mother only had the chance to see you now—"

"She would have," he interrupted with a deliberate tone. "If you had let her, she would have."

Beauregard was taken aback. He showed no anger but was rather shocked at his son's blatant declaration. "Yes… I suppose so. I've spent so much time convincing everyone she was dead… I suppose I'd forgotten the truth for a while."

They were both silent after that. A few minutes passed by before either of them even moved. Finally, accepting that the conversation was over, Blumiere stepped up from his chair and began to walk out of the room. Stopping just short of the door, he turned back to his father once more and spoke a few last words. "I know how much you've sacrificed for all of this, Father. I've always known." With that, he turned away and walked out the door, leaving Beauregard to his thoughts. As he passed by the western balcony, he looked out at the city once more, but the sun was hidden once again underneath the earth, leaving nothing but a trail of darkness.

"_Come on! You'll have to introduce me to him sooner or later. I'm sure it won't be as bad as you think."_

"…"

"_Just promise me. Promise me one day I'll meet your father. Okay?"_

"_Okay… I promise."_

_

* * *

**Chapter 4 is FINALLY up! And good news! Next week is my last week of finals, then I'll have all the free time in the world! So, look forward to these next few chapters coming out a bit more frequently. Until then, enjoy!**  
_


	5. Forget

**Chapter 5: Forget**

"Good to see you again," said the shopkeeper. "I have to say, pretty close call, young lady. Store's closing in a matter of minutes."

"I know," said Timpani, filling her basket with victuals. "It's been a busy couple of days."

"I can see that," the elderly man laughed. He took a look at all of the items she had gathered. "That'll be… fifty-six coins." Opening her purse, Timpani reached in and grabbed a handful of the small, golden discs. One by one, she quickly counted them out on the table. The man looked at her curiously. "You cold?"

Timpani didn't look up, focused on counting out the coins. "Why?"

"Well, it's the middle of the summer, so I'd wager you're the only one around wearing a sweater."

Timpani became rigid, and her neck twitched uncomfortably. Trying not to bring attention to her arms, she replied, "Guess I've just taken a liking to sweaters. No big deal." She counted out the last coin and pushed the pile towards him. The man arranged them in stacks of ten to count them out properly.

"You doing okay?"

The question took Timpani off guard, but she composed herself quickly. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."

"Things okay with the family—"

"Everything's fine!" she said shortly.

The man stood with his mouth still open, taken aback by her words. Shaking himself out of it, he finished stacking the coins and quickly placed them into the bin. "My apologies, ma'am. It's just that… I've always looked forward to seeing your smiling face whenever you come around here. It makes my day to see you. Lately, though, I haven't been seeing that. Tends to make an old man worry. Didn't mean to pry."

Timpani took a deep breath to calm herself. "No, it's fine." She picked up her basket from the counter. "I'll be okay. Don't worry." Thanking the man, she turned and walked out of the store. The town was filled with a warm, orange glow from the sun, which hung lazily above the west horizon. A small crowd of people lined the street, finishing their daily chores and heading home before nightfall.

As Timpani joined the others down the stone-lined road, she was filled with regret over how she had acted. The storekeeper was a kind old gentleman; they had been friends since she was just a child. She had never before had reason to be rude with him. It wasn't that he had been trying to pry. She had feared he was closing in on the truth. Still, his last few words unnerved her as she walked away from the store. He was worried about her. She hadn't changed so much as to cause worry.

…Or had she?

For the past couple of weeks, she had been convincing herself that life would go on. After all, nothing had really changed. She had lived her life well before she knew Blumiere. Why should anything be different now that he was gone?

But things were different. There was no denying it now. The shopkeeper's words still haunted her as the store disappeared from sight. When had she stopped smiling? What else had changed? And worse, how many other people had noticed? The sweater could hide her secrets for now, but it seemed only a matter of time until…

_No, it doesn't matter_, she thought to herself. _No one can know of this… Not even him._ As much as it pained her, she knew he could never learn what had happened, even if it meant saying goodbye. She would forget him eventually. And in time, she hoped, he would forget her. Whatever might happen… No matter how much she might change because of it, no one could know what she knew. Nobody could see the secrets hidden behind the sleeves of her sweater, the secrets that haunted her mind daily.

"_No more… No more…_"

"_No more? You're already begging for mercy?"_

"_Please… Please don't hurt me."_

"_Pathetic human. You don't know true pain… But if you continue this sick little charade of yours, I'll educate you properly."_

"Everything okay, madam?"

Timpani shook herself out of her thoughts and turned her head. Walking next to her was a taller gentleman with short, blonde hair and hazel eyes. He wore a casual business suit and a dusty brown hat on his head. "Y-yes. I'm fine," she replied.

"You were shivering quite a bit there. Are you cold?"

Timpani looked away, blushing a bit out of embarrassment. "I'm okay."

The man simply nodded, not pressing the question. "Busy day, huh?"

She nodded, not really in the mood for conversation. "I suppose so."

"Beautiful sunset, though, don't you think?"

Timpani glanced up at the sky, where the orange sphere just barely touched the horizon. "Yes, it's very pretty," she said nonchalantly.

"Sure is." The man paused for a moment but kept his pace with Timpani. "Second most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

_No…_

Timpani stopped on the road, and the man slowed to a halt beside her, completely silent. Timpani wanted to speak but kept her mouth shut for fear of what might come out. There were so many things she wanted to say, things she had to say, things she couldn't say. Not daring to look at him anymore, she turned away and continued to walk. He followed suit, keeping as silent as ever. "You shouldn't have come."

He smiled. "Shouldn't I? You shouldn't worry about me. It took a while, but Mimi finally managed to teach me how to perfect this disguise." He took off the brown hat and studied it. "I must say, the clothes really aren't my style, but I'm willing to make some sacrifices." She quickened her pace, trying to get the message across, but he matched it easily. "Fine. If that doesn't suit you, then let us go somewhere more… private. There's a lovely park a few miles from here. I once met a girl there, and we talked under the stars the whole night. You know, you remind me a lot of her—"

"Stop it!" she shouted, glaring at him. "Stop playing games!"

The man turned to her and laughed sarcastically. "Oh, I'm playing games? That's strange. I could've sworn it was the other way around!"

"What are you talking about?"

"No letters, you've rejected all of my invitations… This is the first I've even seen you in three weeks, and you pretend you don't even know me!"

"You need to leave," she pressed. "Now."

"Not until you answer my question."

She looked into his eyes once more, or rather his fake eyes. Hazel seemed an odd choice of color, but she really didn't care. At that point, she longed to see his true eyes, to know in her heart that it really was him with her, that everything else had been a dream, and there was nothing separating them. But the hazel eyes and pale skin made it all the clearer. Life, unfortunately, was not as simple as she would have hoped. "What question?" she dared to ask.

Blumiere calmed down and ceased his anger. In a strange, cracked voice, he asked, "Why did you stop loving me?"

Timpani bit her lip hard. She couldn't cry, not now. Breathing in deeply, she forced herself to speak. "I… I want to. I c-can't." She turned and continued walking again.

"Timpani!" Blumiere chased after her.

"I'm just an ordinary girl, Blumiere."

"You really think that?"

"No matter how much I want to love you, we must part."

"Why!" he shouted, but Timpani continued walking. "Timpani, why do you keep avoiding me?" Impatient, he reached and grabbed her arm to stop her.

It felt to Timpani like white hot cinders as her scars exploded with pain once more. Unable to bear it, she screamed in agony, hugging herself against the wall for comfort. The world spun around her, and the memory of the man in the white cloak became vivid once again. _It's coming_, she thought as the faces of reality began to melt away. The last thing she saw was Blumiere's horror-stricken face. He tried to speak to her, but his words were drowned out by her screams, and then everything became dark.

"_Please, stop! Why are you doing this?"_

"_SILENCE! You think you can dishonor my family? You are nothing!"_

"_Aaaah! Please, no more! Stop! Please!"_

"…No more… No more."

"Ma'am? Ma'am, wake up." The world beyond her was beginning to edge its way back into her mind. Slowly, she opened her eyes again. The sun had already set, shrouding the town in twilight. Three men were kneeling down beside her. One of them had his hand under her head. "You alright, ma'am?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "Thank you." She sat herself upright again. The three men stood ready to help her, but she held up her hand. "I can do it. Thank you." As she stood up slowly to her feet, the men stood up with her. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "What happened to Blum—er, the man I was with?"

"We took care of him," said the first man. "He managed to get out of town, but not before we roughed him up some. If he's stupid enough to come back here again, it'll be the last thing he'll ever do." He put his hand lightly on her shoulder. "He won't ever hurt you again. I can promise that."

"What?" She looked at him in confusion. "But… He never…" The three men looked at her in concern, but she stopped herself. Perhaps it was better this way. "Thank you."

The man nodded. "If you point out the way, we can help you get home, if that's okay."

She nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Oh, wait a second," said the second man. Leaning down, he grabbed her basket and handed it to her. "Some of the food hit the ground, but we managed to save some of it."

"Thank you," she repeated, taking the basket. The three men escorted her out of the pavilion towards her home. As they walked on, she glanced behind her to city of darkness in the east.

_I'm sorry, Blumiere…_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 5 FINISHED!**

**Thanks to everyone who's been rooting for me. Special shout-out to JoyJababaNoid and The Great Butler for your feedback! You guys are awesome!**

**So, I tried to avoid the whole soap-opera setting (epic fail lol). But wow, this was a depressing chapter. Blumiere doesn't give up quite that easily, though. Stay tuned! Next chapter's comin' up soon!**


	6. Monsters

**Chapter 6: Monsters**

The air collided with a pop as the castle materialized into view, its lofty towers looming over the dark landscape. Blumiere rolled along the grass frightfully, fighting away at the hands and fists that were now miles away from where he lay. Realizing that he was alone, he relaxed and lay sprawled out on the hard ground, panting heavily. The angry voices of screaming men still rang in his ears. The threats and insults weighed heavily on him. He'd never thought that the actions of humans could ever frighten him.

But nothing haunted him more now than what he'd seen in her. After weeks of hearing nothing from her, all the possible reasons for her disappearance stewed in his mind. He had pondered it day and night until the worst scenarios were displayed vividly in his mind. Finally, when he could no longer stand to wait, he had grabbed his cloak, and set off to the one place he had sworn he would never return to.

Seeing himself now, he thought that perhaps it would have been better if he had never known. The wounds on her arms, the piercing screams of terror, the image overwhelmed him. He had tried to calm her, tried to bring her back to reality, but she was lost in whatever nightmare she had been pulled into. He could only sit there helplessly until one of the humans had decided to intervene. Assuming that Blumiere was the cause of her distress, he had pulled him away and immediately responded with what he knew best. It was only a matter of time before a mob of the violent creatures had concluded their thoughts in a similar manner.

_Simple humans_, he thought, the bruises on his body still aching from the furious blows. He did not blame them, though. They had reacted in a completely natural way. Their only mistake was accusing him as the culprit. They had no way of knowing who was really to blame.

_But I do…_ The fury of the humans welled up within him as he stood up from his resting spot. Ahead, the castle loomed over him like a giant shadow, a faint blot silhouetting the blackened sky. What the humans hadn't realized was that the true villain was more cowardly than they'd anticipated. He would never have revealed himself to the people whom he'd hurt. While Blumiere took the blame, he sat comfortably in the castle, completely unaware of the repercussions his vile actions had caused.

"Beauregard!" he exclaimed, storming through the castle halls. The servants within earshot stared back in amazement and fear. Never before had they heard him refer to their master by his first name. But Blumiere no longer cared for formalities. He could never think of that wretched thing, that _monster_, as his father, as if he should compare himself to him.

Finally, as Blumiere stormed into the den of the castle, he spotted Beauregard sitting quietly in his chair, reading from a small black booklet. He had to have heard Blumiere's screams; the entire castle had echoed his voice. Still, he pretended not to even notice his son, giving more attention to the little insignificant book he held. Blumiere continued his march, considering how he should approach him. Many words came to mind, but none seemed fitting enough.

"Do you need something, Blumiere?" Beauregard asked, finally acknowledging his presence.

As Blumiere heard his name, he stopped in the center of the room and glared at Beauregard, whose calm, indifferent demeanor only enraged him further. His breathing became hard and rapid as the adrenaline rushed through his body. His hands shook uncontrollably, desperate for the opportunity to strike. The words on his tongue could still not escape him.

"What is it, Blumiere?" Beauregard asked once more.

Blumiere closed his eyes and controlled his breathing. Assured that he could control himself, he finally spoke. "What did you do to her?"

Beauregard did not answer at first. He flipped the page of the book nonchalantly, his expression completely blank. "I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about."

"Enough!" he shouted. "I'm through with this! I'm done with your games, and I'm done with your lies!"

At last, Beauregard looked him in the eye. He gave an odd sort of laugh before speaking. "Lies? So I'm the one who has been keeping secrets now?" Blumiere had no answer for this. "Take that disgusting thing off, I can hardly stand to look at you."

Blumiere was dumbfounded for a moment until he took a look at himself. He still wore the disguise that he had taken to see Timpani. Closing his fist, he reversed the spell, reverting back to his normal state. Beauregard laughed darkly. "How pathetic! You can't even see what she's done to you? That you could allow one such as her to infatuate you?"

"Don't speak of her!"

Beauregard smirked. "Isn't that what this is about?" Standing up, he towered over Blumiere threateningly. "Those things are nothing but monsters, Blumiere! Useless beasts! I simply put that pathetic girl in her place, which is far more than anyone else will ever do for her!"

Blumiere's anger began to grow once more. "You know nothing about her!"

"I know enough!" Beauregard was fuming, nearly as angry as Blumiere had been. He backed away a few paces, never losing sight of his son. "I knew you had been keeping secrets from me, Blumiere, but I never thought… And now you're trying to convince me you've fallen in love with such a creature?"

"Yes," Blumiere stated adamantly. "And if you ever hurt her again—"

"What?" he said, cutting him off. "What will you do, Blumiere? Stop me?"

Blumiere's fists tightened, but something caught his attention before he could react. The book Beauregard had been holding had seemed familiar, but Blumiere now realized where he'd seen it before. Looking back up at Beauregard, he asked, "Where's Nastasia?"

Beauregard gave a wide grim smile in reply. "Well, why don't we take a visit?" He called for Beeves, who quickly appeared from under the ground. "Bring her in, if you would."

Beeves nodded humbly and sank back into the cold earth. Moments later, two more Magiblot servants rose up, carrying between them a small prisoner. She was chained and pale, her hair a tangled mess. A pair of busted glasses sat precariously balanced on her nose. Blumiere could hardly even recognize her as Nasasia. "What have you done?" Nastasia attempted to stand up in Beauregard's presence, but she collapsed, too weak to hold her own weight.

"I can forgive the secrets of my own son," Beauregard replied. "But my servants deserve no such kindness." He reached down and picked up Nastasia by the neck of her shirt, standing her up on her feet. "I can't have a dishonest servant. So she will become a… an example, so to speak."

"You've gone mad…"

"This is what it means to have power." he demonstrated, reeling back to kick Nastasia, but Blumiere could not stand to see it. Lunging at his father, he tackled him to the ground, leaving Nastasia to herself. Beauregard and Blumiere rolled along the floor of the hallway, each reaching for a hold on the other. Blumiere threw his fists wildly, but Beauregard hardly reacted. Reeling his hand back, he struck Blumiere in the stomach, pushing up a few feet into the air.

Blumiere hit the ground hard, the blow to his gut overwhelming him. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying to soothe the pain. Beauregard stood from his spot and grabbed Blumiere's cloak, turning him around so that he could see only him. "You see what she has done to you?" he whispered. "How weak she has made you?" He studied the bruises on Blumiere's face, mementos from his earlier fight. "You think those humans gave you a scare. Cross me again, and I'll show you true pain."

He left Blumiere on the ground and turned to face Nastasia, but Blumiere would not give in so easily. Extending his arm, he grabbed his father's cloak and pulled him back. While his father tried to regain balance, Blumiere rolled away towards Nastasia. "No!" Beauregard shouted, jumping out for them. Gripping Nastasia by the hands, Blumiere muttered the necessary words, watching with relief as his father's outstretched arms evaporated along with the rest of the world. Only he and Nastasia remained.

A full minute passed before any sort of landscape began to appear. Blumiere hoped that he had done it right. Sure enough, a mixture of bright yellow colors began to melt into view. Eventually, the colors separated into distinct features, forming the sky and the sand on the ground.

As the last of the landscape shifted into position, Blumiere and Nastasia found themselves in the midst of a desert city. Small, dusty houses lined the golden sandy street. To the south of the city rested a fair-sized mountain.

Nastasia coughed up the dust that had found its way into her mouth and managed to prop herself on her knees. Blumiere helped her keep balance in case she would collapse once again. "Where are we?" she asked, glancing around at the buildings in wonder.

"I believe it's called Yold Town," Blumiere answered. "I'm pretty sure, anyway. It's the first time I've ever warped between worlds."

"HEY YOU!" Blumiere turned around to see an older man shouting behind them. His back was heavily arched, and he limped on a thick, wooden cane. "Whatcha doin' around here! You fellas aren't from around here, are ya? You better watch it!"

Blumiere smiled. "Watchitt?"

"Huh? No! You watch it, smart-mouth!"

He sighed. "Yes, this is most certainly Yold Town." Helping Nastasia to her feet, he walked her towards the crotchety old mayor. "She needs help. Can you provide shelter?"

"Whoosit? What do I look like, a charity?"

"I'll pay the cost when I return, but she needs help now." Watchitt considered the offer for a moment and then shrugged. "Well, why didn't you say so? We've got ourselves a nice resting house just down the road. WATCH IT! Just follow me!"

The two of them walked together down the road. Nastasia wouldn't speak, nor did Blumiere make her. Once they arrived at the right house, Watchitt pointed them in. "Right inside her. We'll get her rested up and fed. When will I expect to be paid?"

"You'll get the money tomorrow morning," Blumiere assured him. "I promise."

"You'd better. Nobody better cross Old Man Watchitt! WATCH IT!"

As the two of them walked in, Blumiere turned Nastasia around and undid the chains on her arms. "I'm so sorry about all of this," he said.

"It wasn't your fault," she muttered.

"If I hadn't gotten you into this, he would have never done this to you."

She smiled demurely. "If I'd had a choice, I'd do it again."

Blumiere smiled in return. "Get some rest, and once you're well, stay hidden. Don't let him find you again."

Nastasia looked up at him, confused. "Y-you're not staying?"

"I have some things to take care of. I can't stay here."

As he got up, Nastasia suddenly jumped to her feet. "You can't go back! What will he do to you?"

Blumiere shook his head. "I can't leave her there. I have to go back." With that, he turned toward the door.

"Master Blumiere!" Nastasia shouted. He halted by the door and turned around. "…I owe you my life."

"No. You don't owe my anything."

She hesitated for a moment. "Are you… coming back?"

Blumiere considered the thought. "I may. But you shouldn't stay here long. Beauregard's bound to find you here."

"I have ways of avoiding him… Master Blumiere, even if I don't have a debt, I'm still your servant. If… If you ever need me again, you know where to find me." Blumiere opened his mouth to retort this, but he could think of nothing to say against it. "And that goes for the servants at the castle, too."

"What do you mean?"

"They serve Beauregard out of fear, but their loyalties lie with you. Mimi, Beeves… I'm willing to bet all of them would follow you to their graves."

Blumiere nodded. "Thank you… for everything."

She nodded in reply. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Blumiere."

Blumiere smiled at her. "Goodbye, Nastasia." At these words, he closed his eyes and muttered the incantation once more, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

* * *

**I... hate... WRITER'S BLOCK! Sigh... So, I've finally got chapter 6 up! For the record, I am still alive! :) So this one turned out quite a bit differently from what I expected. Look forward to the next chapter real soon. I'll probably start working on it right now in case that terminal disease tries to strike me again in the near future. R&R!**


	7. Amends

**Chapter 7: Amends**

Transparent yellow light shined in rays through the window's thin curtains, flooding the room with a slowly dimming golden hue. Timpani sat on the side of her bed, looking out at the street as the villagers hurried away to their own homes. She watched them all as they disappeared into their respective houses, some with loaves of bread from the bakery, others with assorted goods from the general store. Gradually, the life of the city began to dim, eager to rest and prepare for the next busy day.

Timpani hadn't joined the villagers. She had spent the better part of the day in her room, folding sheets, reading, or otherwise trying to keep busy to keep her mind off the guilt she felt from the other day's event. The last thing she had wanted was to hurt Blumiere like that, but she feared even more so what his reaction might have been at seeing what had become of her. After all she had gone through, she couldn't bear to see the look of disgust on his face if he had seen…

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. The last thing she needed was to brood over such things. The only thing left to do was forget. After that, hopefully, she could resume her life again.

She rose from her bed to close the window. Just as her hand reached the curtain, she saw something stir within her peripheral vision. Out of instinct, she turned to see what had shifted and nearly screamed in fright. Standing in front of her, without his disguise, was Blumiere. He wore his black cloak, but his matching hat was amiss. His presence startled Timpani so much that she nearly collapsed, holding the back of the wall for support.

"I-I'm sorry," Blumiere stammered. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"W-what are you doing here?" she asked. "What about your disguise? What if someone sees you?"

Blumiere simply shook his head. "No more disguises. No more games. This is just you and me." Panicking, Timpani ran to the door, peeking into the hallway to make sure her father hadn't already witnessed what happened. She closed it quietly, feeling Blumiere's penetrating gaze all the while. She took a deep breath, contemplating how to respond. "Blumiere, I've told you what I want," she said without turning to him. "This won't change anything."

"Maybe so." For a moment, he said nothing more. Timpani began to wonder if he even had anything planned. "Timpani, I'm sorry for everything that's happened—"

"Don't." She turned to him now, but would not look at him directly. "Please. This isn't your fault, Blumiere."

He nodded. "I know. But I thought, at least, I could make things right."

"Right?" she said angrily. "Make _what_ right?" She waited for a reply, but he did not answer her. "There is nothing wrong with me Blumiere." The lie left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she would not give in. "I'm not your burden. I'm not something that needs to be fixed. It's just the way things are."

To her surprise, he did not react to her anger, but waited for her to finish with a calm demeanor. "That's really what you believe?"

Hesitating only a moment, she replied, "Yes."

"Then look at me." She glanced up at his face, but his red eyes served as a dark reminder of his father. Though she longed to see them again, she feared that she might find the same blind fury that she had found in the eyes of her assailer. Unwilling to bear it again, her eyes scanned the ground. "Look at me!" he repeated, losing control of his own temper. She cringed under his harsh voice, her eyes watering from the guilt of angering one such as him. But she stopped herself from crying. She had to stand firm, or he would never leave her. Blumiere's breathing became heavy, and he seemed to have realized his folly as he tried to calm himself. "…I never imagined you'd be one to give up so easily." The words stung her, but she didn't retaliate. After all, he was right. "At least let me do this one thing for you. After that, if your mind is still made up, I'll leave, and you will never see me again."

She thought over his offer. She couldn't tell if he spoke honestly, but she didn't seem to have much choice. After some consideration, she asked, "What is it?"

"Let me see your hands." He reached out for her. Timpani retreated shyly, keeping her arms tucked up against her chest in fear of his touch. She could not bear to let him see what had happened to her. Blumiere did not force himself. "Do you trust me, Timpani?" The question struck her. Did she? He had never shown reason for her to mistrust him. Still, the thought of revealing the shameful marks on her arms to him frightened her.

Shaking, she lifted her gaze, slowly, up to his face, into his deep red eyes. At once, she became still, the earlier fears of what she might have found in his eyes vanishing. In that respect, he bore no resemblance to his father. His eyes showed no sign of threat. They didn't attack her or stab into her own eyes; rather, they were tender, patient. As she searched his eyes, the worries and concerns of the past few weeks began to melt away, until even the memory of the horrific event seemed like only a bad dream. At that moment, it became clear to her that there was nothing to fear from him.

Timidly, she unfolded her arms and stretched her left out to him, hoping that whatever he had planned would end quickly. Cupping her hand in his left, he moved his right hand over her sleeve and began to roll it back. She grimaced as the fabric rubbed up against her wounds, but he was gentle. As each roll of her sleeve was unfurled, the skin underneath became a darker shade of red. About halfway up the arm, as Blumiere rolled back the sleeve, the first of the scars became visible. Blumiere studied the mark, hesitating for just a moment. Timpani's face burned with humiliation, wishing for nothing more than to throw her sleeves back down and forget everything, but she reluctantly allowed him to continue.

Strangely, he did not continue all the way up her arm, but stopped once the first mark was completely visible. Once he had finished, he placed his right hand over the wound and began to press down. Timpani shut her eyes tightly, preparing herself for the immense pain.

But it never came.

As Blumiere's hand touched her arm, a cold sensation enveloped it, almost numbing all the feeling within it. The phenomenon crept up her arm and trailed all the way through her body. It felt almost chilling, but it soothed all the aches and pains that had been bothering her. Slowly, the numb sensation began to fade away, replaced with the warmth of her blood rushing through her body in a confused frenzy.

As Blumiere removed his hand, Timpani dared to open her eyes. She looked down at her arm to see what he had done to the scar, but the scar was nowhere to be found. Rolling up the rest of her sleeve, she gazed in awe at the naked arm. The marks that had haunted her all those weeks had simply vanished, leaving no trace that anything had ever happened. Gently, she felt the skin with her other hand, and it felt just as smooth as it had before the attack, maybe more so. She looked up at Blumiere, her jaw still hanging in confusion. Realizing her state, she quickly closed it, searching for something to say. "Thank you," was all she could think of.

Blumiere nodded in reply, stepping back a pace. "Timpani, will you come with me now?"

She opened her mouth to speak, trying to find the words to explain herself, but they escaped her. Giving it up, she said, "I can't."

Blumiere reached out once more, holding her hand in his. "Why do you keep denying me? I can protect you. I swear to you, my father will never hurt you again. You don't need to be afraid—"

"It's not that," she cut him off. She wasn't sure if he believed her, but it had been the truth. Perhaps earlier she had feared what would become of her, but seeing him with her now, she would have rather faced the white-cloaked stranger's wrath once again than to watch him leave. Something else, however, troubled her deeply. She bit her lower lip, carefully considering her next words. "Blumiere, I'm grateful for everything you've done for me. I'm not afraid of what your father might do to me. If I have to face him again, I will… but I don't want you to be there when it happens. I don't want you to see what might happen to me. I can't bear to see you hurt again, and if that means—" The last few words were caught in her throat as Blumiere grabbed her around her back, pulled her close and kissed her.

It was unexpected, too unexpected to stop him. He drew her closer, until she could feel the steady rhythm of his heart resounding in his chest. In that still moment, it seemed that she had become a part of him, as if the two of them were connected, sharing every thought and secret as one entity. As his rough lips brushed against hers, the tension and uncertainty within her faded into oblivion.

And then it was over, just as quickly as it had started.

Timpani stood rooted to the spot, her lips still pursed from the kiss. She was frozen, unable to move or react, the only discernible thought being her regret that such a wonderful thing had to end and that she wanted nothing more than to start again. In front of her, Blumiere knelt down to her level, so that his eyes met hers again. In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "That is why I love you, Timpani. But you must realize this isn't your fault. All I want is to be with you, and see you happy again. That's all that matters."

Finally, she found her voice again. "Blumiere, you love me, and you know I love you. But nobody else can see that. All they see is what we are. How can we be happy together in a place that won't accept us?"

"Perhaps there is a way to convince them of the truth. Perhaps if they saw a commitment of—"

"Don't say it." Blumiere stopped talking, but his eyes could not hide what he wanted. "Now?"

"Timpani, it's the only way," he said. "If we are married, no one can speak otherwise."

"No!" Timpani stepped back from him. Blumiere's face dropped into a dejected frown, but she was resolute. It was too soon for such a commitment. She loved him, but… "It won't solve anything, Blumiere."

"Perhaps not, but we have to try!"

"Try? What are you thinking?" She shook her head and turned away. "There's no possible way," she said, more to herself than to him. "No one would allow it."

Blumiere considered her words. Thinking aloud, he replied, "Perhaps no one in this world…"

She turned to him again. "What does that mean?"

At first, it seemed he had not heard her. Soon, his eyes widened, and she recognized the look of excitement in his face. "If we can't be happy here, we must leave for a place that will accept our love." His eyes were opened wide as he marveled at whatever visions ran through his head. "You haven't seen the other worlds, Timpani. The cities, the lands, they're all beautiful. Surely we could find a place that suits us."

He glided excitedly about the room, speaking of all the possibilities between them while Timpani tried desperately to catch his attention. While she was happy to see him in his elation, she feared the noise would catch her father's attention. She managed to grab Blumiere's arm and turn him around, bringing him back to reality. "Blumiere, are you sure about this?" she asked. "I mean, is there such a place?"

Blumiere stopped, pondering the question for a moment. "If our love has no home…" He smiled. "Then let us spend our lives searching together!"

"What?" she exclaimed in shock. "You can't be serious."

"I am." He held both of her hands gently. "I know I'm asking a lot, Timpani, but I can't live without you. This is the only way we can truly share our love together."

"But Blumiere, think about what you're saying! Think about what you'd be giving up; your castle, your family…your entire world!"

"_You_ are my world." His words struck her. He couldn't have meant that. "And I'm tired of living in a place where I can't announce it. I'm tired of being expected to live in a specific way with specific people. I want to live with you, in a world where we don't have to hide. So I beg of you again…" He knelt down on one knee as he spoke. "Timpani, marry me! I promise I will make you happy!"

"You… just won't give up, will you?" she said exasperatedly. A short laugh escaped her. "Of all the crazy, stubborn… foolish men." She turned away, glancing out the window, down on the quiet city below. Once again, she looked upon the horizon that stretched miles outward, cresting over the hills in the distance, where the final few rays of the sun poked out. It was low enough now that she could look upon it directly, and take in all the beauty of the sunset. A choked gasp escaped from her, and the tears she had tried so hard to hide fell swiftly down.

"Timpani, answer me! Please!"

She wiped the tears from her eyes and gazed back at the kneeling man, who waited anxiously for his answer. As she looked at him, she remembered the strange, dark boy she had found at the cliff base only months earlier, the boy she had taken in and cared for until he was well. A smile crossed her face. _We certainly have come a long way in such a short time._

Her thoughts raced to find a decision, but she couldn't bring herself to give an answer. To leave everything behind and run away… How could something so severe be graced with a simple yes or no answer, when either choice carried a weight she didn't want to bear?

But what did she want? As she looked into Blumiere's eager eyes once more, one idea started to become clear. In the midst of her uncertainty, there was one thing she knew she wanted at that moment more than anything else. Kneeling down in front of Blumiere, she cupped her right hand over his face and returned his kiss.

That blissful euphoria returned to them once again. As they were interlocked together, she intensely wished that this moment would never end. A thought began to dance in the back of her mind. _It doesn't have to_.

As she broke contact with him, she looked deep into his red eyes, and she knew her answer. "Blumiere, I love you." She smiled for the first time in weeks, the tears welling up in her eyes again. "Take me away. Take me to a world where we can be happy…"

* * *

**I know... It's been awhile since my last update. So here we go! I really like how this turned out, actually. I'll try to update as soon as I can. Thank you for your patience! Enjoy!**


	8. Culture Shock

**Chapter 8: Culture Shock**

The bamboo shack was alive and energetic. People of all shapes and sizes filled the bar, talking and cheering loudly. All of them wore strange, metal caps on their heads, a symbol of something, though it was difficult to tell what. Each one also wielded a weapon of some sort, either a wooden stick, a sword, or even a mace. That came as no surprise, however. Fighting, Blumiere noticed, was a very revered sport in the Sammer Kingdom. It defined more than anything else the social status of an individual. Even now, many of the armor-clad warriors attempted to display their strength in whatever way they could, whether it be flexing or simply arm wrestling against each other. Some of the more somber customers sat alone at a booth, keeping one hand on the metal sword sheathed beneath their belts.

"Are you going to finish your soup?" Timpani asked. Blumiere shook off his glazed look and turned to her. She had already finished with her meal. He dropped his eyes down to the bowl of lukewarm soup that lay before him.

"Yes," he said, scooping up some of the golden yellow liquid and sipping it. It tasted thick and somewhat gritty now that it had been sitting out for a time. "I'm sorry, I haven't really been in the mood to eat," he explained bitterly after swallowing the concoction.

"Don't let it get to you," Timpani said, touching his hand in sympathy. "We'll have our chance."

"It isn't fair!" he seethed. "Just because we're not 'subjects' of the kingdom, that minister refuses to marry us?"

"I know, but… It's not as if he can break the law for us."

Blumiere sighed dejectedly. "I should have a word with King Sammer if I ever get the chance."

"Don't worry so much about it." She grabbed both of his hands now, trying to offer some comfort. "It doesn't matter as long as we're together, right?"

"Right," Blumiere said, nodding in agreement. "I know. It's just that, I really thought this would be our opportunity. It felt so close, and it's just been frustrating."

"We've only been gone a week," Timpani reminded him. "We have to be patient." She thought for a moment. "Besides, I've enjoyed this little adventure of ours. I'd certainly like to see more of these worlds."

Blumiere gave a small smile. "Yes, it has been exciting." He took a deep breath and managed to calm himself. "You're right, Timpani. I suppose it'd be foolish of me to think we'd be able to settle after just one week."

Timpani smiled. "If we have to spend our whole lives searching, right?"

Such a concept worried him slightly. The idea suddenly didn't seem quite as romantic as he'd originally thought. Still, as long as she was with him, he would gladly choose such a life over anything else. "Right," he agreed confidently. Releasing his grip from her, he reluctantly continued eating his soup, which by now had only gotten colder.

Suddenly, the jovial demeanor of the shack was abruptly halted as the front doors crashed open.

"GRA-BLARGITY!"

Blumiere turned to search for the source of such an odd sound. By the front doors stood a rather tall man. He didn't tower over some of the biggest guards in the room, but he still posed a significantly large stature. His armor was black, with small stripes of red at the seams, sleeves, and neck. His bulky arms almost stretched to the floor—they would have had they not had a slight arc at the elbows. The wrists were covered with a thick red bracelet with silver bolts jutting out of it. His hands were gloved in black.

The most memorable feature of the oaf, though, was his face. Although his somewhat flat scalp was hairless, his thick, spiky orange beard sported more than enough hair to compensate. Thick, hairy eyebrows furled down over two beady black eyes, which seemed to be gazing in different directions. Blumiere was sure that in all his travels he had never laid eyes on such a creature.

The heavy-set man bellowed delightedly as he looked upon the other warriors, who joined him in his hearty delight. "So, which o' you prissy-pants ladies missed little ol' me, eh?"

Some of the Sammer Guys cheered in excitement. One of them in his ecstasy exclaimed, "You know I did!" His comment quieted the crowd for just a moment. Realizing the implication, the poor man sat back down in his seat humbly.

The obnoxious brute let out a low, raspy roar of a laugh, which livened up the crowd once again. He lumbered over to the bartender. Slamming his fist loudly on the counter, he exclaimed, "Barkeep! I'm feelin' pretty bold today. So gimme the strongest glass o' liquid courage yeh got!"

"One root beer comin' up," the bartender replied impassively.

"An' make it snappy, eh? I gotta date wif a woman, an' her name's Destiny!" The crowd cheered ecstatically. Someone in the crowd whooped.

"So," one of the smaller customers piped up. "You takin' on the big challenge again, O'Chunks?"

Blumiere snickered. _A fitting name_.

O'Chunks replied with another hearty snort of a laugh. "Yeh got that right! I got a few hairs ta pull from that cheeky Hundred-Sammer Guy challenge. I'm feelin' it! Tonight's the night!"

The crowd cheered in unison, feeding O'Chunks' already huge ego. "I heard you even stood your ground against the Slap Brothers!" one shouted giddily.

The bartender placed the glass of root beer on the counter. O'Chunks grabbed it and downed the entire glass in one swig. Wiping the excess foam from his lips, he continued, "Aye, that 'Forbidden Slap' was no match for me! I roared my way through the lot o' them." He jumped on the counter to better illustrate his story, to the bartender's dismay. "Some of 'em even managed to put up a fight. I had to blast my way through the Furious Fang o' Goomb! The Ragin' Blargg tried to pull a fast one on me, too, but just like the rest o' them, 'e got CHUNKED!"

As if by habit, his listeners continued to cheer for him. One brave—or stupid—soul dared to point something out. "But you didn't make it all the way, did you?"

Suddenly, his demeanor went sour. Staring the poor bloke down with one eye, he rumbled, "I woulda gone all the way if that Merciless Dayzee fella had one lick o' good sportsmanship, I can tell yeh that!" The soldier sat back quietly, not daring to speak another word.

Another snicker escaped from Blumiere. This time, it caught the attention of the overzealous oaf. Blumiere avoided his gaze and continued eating his soup. O'Chunks clambered off of the counter and lumbered over to their table. "I don't suppose I've 'ad the pleasure of seein' yer face around these parts," he grumbled.

Blumiere wrinkled his nose. The man's breath smelled of raw eggs and fizz. "We're not from around here," he replied, trying not to gag.

O'Chunks chuckled and stood up to his full height, apparently attempting to intimidate him. "Well, o' course. I think I woulda recognized a scrawny boyo like you, eh? What's with the cape? Yeh the king o' the losers or somefin'?" The crowd laughed in reply to his insult, somewhat more loudly than what seemed normal. O'Chunks turned his glare to Timpani. "Ah, now I definitely woulda remembered a pretty face like yers," he said, leaning on the table with one arm. Now Blumiere was starting to get uneasy. He looked to Timpani, who shook her head as if to say, "It's okay."

"Now," O'Chunks continued. "You remind me of someone. A lovely lassie what used ta come down here all the time. Now, she was a looker." He raised his eyebrows as if he thought that was supposed to be a compliment. "Missed me chance to declare me love for 'er, though. It was a grave mistake." He leaned a bit closer. "But now that you've come around, I'm startin' ta believe in second chances."

Blumiere could take no more of it. "Excuse me!" he shouted. O'Chunks scowled at him menacingly. He nearly attacked the brute then and there, but Timpani's worried glances held him firm. "We're trying to eat, so if you would please leave the two of us alone—"

"Oh, you like eatin', do ya? Well…" He flexed his left arm, revealing a thick layer of muscle underneath. "Ow'd you like a taste o' me chunks, eh?"

Blumiere dropped the spoon back down and pushed the last of his soup away from him. "Well, I've lost my appetite." He stood up from the seat and offered his hand to Timpani. "Come on, Timpani." Without hesitation, she grabbed his hand and stood up, eager to get as far away from the man as possible.

"Now hold up just a beard-tweakin' minute! Yeh can't jus' walk away from it all."

"Watch us," Blumiere said without turning around. As he almost reached the exit, he could see movement from the left and right. Suddenly, two of the larger brutes, one blue and the other red, jumped out in front of the door, blocking their exit. Blumiere turned back, looking for an exit, but it was unlikely that any of the customers would allow them to leave. The bartender, he noticed, had discreetly disappeared from the shack. That wasn't a good sign.

"Now, tha's more like it!" O'Chunks bellowed with amusement. "Now that I've got yer attention, I challenge yeh fer the hand o' that pretty lass."

"Excuse me!" Timpani exclaimed. She turned on her heel and stared him down angrily. "I'm not just some _thing_ that you can win out of a stupid contest!"

"Shut yer mouth, lass. This is between me and preppy boy over there." Timpani's eyes went wide with fury. Blumiere had never seen her so angry before… at anyone other than him, that is. "I don't know where the two o' you come from, but down here, yeh gotta respect the rules. So yeh'd better do as I say unless yeh wanna say yer goodbyes to each other right now." He walked up to Timpani with a sick gleam in his eye. "O' course, if yer smart, yeh might jus' call it quits now instead of spendin' the night in the emergency room." He reached out his hand for Timpani's arm.

The time for politeness was over. With unnatural speed, Blumiere lashed out and whipped O'Chunks' arm away, standing between him and Timpani. O'Chunks smiled mischievously. "So, yeh do got some fight in yeh after all."

"Blumiere," Timpani called. "You don't have to do this."

Blumiere was through being rational. "If it's a fight he wants, he'll get it."

As if in response to this, the crowd widened out, leaving ample space for them to fight. Timpani situated herself next to a few of the weaker-looking customers, ready to defend herself if the need arose. Confident of her safety, for the moment, Blumiere turned to his target, preparing for battle. O'Chunks also prepped himself, raising his arm up in an offensive stance.

"So, when do we start?" Blumiere asked. O'Chunks charged at Blumiere, jabbing his elbow into his gut. Blumiere was knocked back to the edge of the circle, doubled over in pain. _I suppose that answers the question_. The merciless crowd threw him back into the circle, eager to see more punishment. O'Chunks roared, raising his fists in the air in triumph. Blumiere shook off the pain and stood to his feet. This was far from over.

O'Chunks raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Yeh want more, eh? A'right then." He lumbered over to Blumiere, who threw a fist towards his face. O'Chunks grabbed his wrist with surprising agility and swung him around, using the momentum to send him flying into the far wall. Blumiere adjusted himself so as not to damage anything vital, slamming into the wall with his arms and legs. He fell back to the ground at the edge of the circle. In spite of his attempts, the impact still hurt significantly. He stood his ground, checking himself to be sure nothing was broken.

He had barely a moment to recuperate. O'Chunks crouched low and charged once more. Blumiere rolled to the side, barely dodging the crazed brute. He noticed that, although the man's arms were quick to react, the rest of his body moved with rather clumsy speed when he tried to turn around. Wasting no time, he jumped to his feet and lunged at O'Chunks from behind, striking him in the small of his back. O'Chunks howled in pain and fell forward. It seemed Blumiere had discovered his weak point.

O'Chunks seemed to have realized the same thing as he spun around as quickly as he could before suffering a second hit. "So, yeh got more in yeh than I thought. Nothin' more'n a lucky hit, as far as I'm concerned." Blumiere smirked. He was starting to hurt his pride. That was a start.

O'Chunks crouched low and leapt up towards the ceiling, crashing down towards Blumiere. Blumiere's nerve weakened. If he was hit with that attack, there would be no recovering. Quickly, he leapt forward to the spot O'Chunks had once stood. No sooner had he reached the spot than he heard a deafening crash from behind him. Without turning around, he spun left with his leg in the air, striking O'Chunks once again.

O'Chunks roared with pain as Blumiere lowered his leg to the ground in bewilderment. _I didn't know I could do that_,he thought, breathing heavily now. It seemed adrenaline would be his friend in this fight. Frustrated, O'Chunks screamed and turned around, reeling back his fist to deliver a desperate blow.

_This has to end, _Blumiere thought. Quickly, he muttered a few words and stepped to the left, vanishing from sight. A second later, he appeared behind O'Chunks. Clasping his hands together, he raised his arms and swung down with all the force he could muster.

He knew the hit had ended the fight the moment it connected. With a sickening thud, O'Chunks hit the ground hard, screaming in frustration and agony. He tried to stand, but that last strike had weakened his resolve to continue the fight. He had been bested.

"I don't believe it," he gasped between sharp breaths. "Yeh beat me chunks… Nobody beats me chunks…"

Considering the battle and the gritty soup he had just eaten, the word "chunks" made Blumiere sick to his stomach. Oddly enough, it also reminded him of just how much pain he was in. His legs buckled, and he fell to his knees.

"Blumiere!" Timpani ran out to the middle of the circle. Kneeling down next to him, she wrapped her arm around his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine," he said weakly, but she wasn't convinced. "Just a few bruises is all. Nothing serious." He looked up at her and smirked. "I've been through worse." She couldn't help but smile back. Slowly, and with her assistance, he stood back up to his feet and looked down at his defeated opponent.

O'Chunks had weakly situated himself so that he faced Blumiere, but he would not look up at him. Apparently, that was another gesture of his shame. "Yeh've defeated me in a fair fight," he confessed. "Finish me off."

"What?" Timpani said, baffled.

"That's the way ta finish it! Me chunks failed me, an' now it's time fer me game ta end. Yer gonna be the one ta end it!"

Blumiere stepped forward, almost willing to oblige. Timpani touched his shoulder. "Blumiere, no. You're not like this. You can't."

He paused, considering what should be done. "Yeh 'ave ta finish me!" O'Chunks droned on. "I can't go on livin' with a loss! The shame be too much!"

Blumiere knelt down beside the beaten brute and whispered in his ear. "You remember all that talk about second chances?" These words seemed to calm him down. "Consider this yours." He stood up, leaving O'Chunks with a dumbfounded expression. Turning away, he stepped close to Timpani. Now that it was all over, he was slightly embarrassed from the fight. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

She replied with a tender kiss. "I'm not."

Blumiere smiled in return. "Shall we?" She nodded, and they made their way together to the exit. The two thugs who stood in the way glared at them. "Excuse us, please."

"Not so fast, little man," said the blue brute. "You think you're gettin' outta here so easily?"

"I've beaten your best man. I think I've earned my way out, don't you?"

"What if some of us want a fight?" a man behind them inquired. "You gotta honor the rules, after all."

"You've got to be kidding."

"Does it look like we're kidding?" the blue thug continued. "You got some good skills, bub. And that lady-friend of yours would make a great prize."

Blumiere stood his ground angrily. "She's no prize! Now let us through!"

The thug ignored his retort, taking a step forward. "Not until you beat us."

"All of us," the man behind sneered. Blumiere and Timpani backed up slowly into the middle of the shack. The so-called warriors formed a circle again, surrounding them.

"Get behind me!" Suddenly, O'Chunks stumbled up, with apparent difficulty, and stood between Blumiere and the thug.

"What are you doing?" Blumiere asked.

"Yeh'd best leave these two alone!" O'Chunks shouted to the warriors. "Yeh saw him beat me, an' that's all there is to it!"

"Get out of the way, O'Chunks!" the thug retorted.

"Will yeh listen ta me? There's no honor in this fight! Yeh'd probably realize that if yeh'd get yer chunks outta your tushie!"

Blumiere's stomach lurched. "Could you please stop using that word?"

"Eh? Oh, sorry, yeh great Squid-belly." He turned back to the warriors again. "A'right, if that's the way yeh want ta play… Yeh want them, yeh gotta get through me first!"

The blue thug laughed heartily. "You can barely stand!"

Suddenly, an idea occurred to Blumiere. He faced the thug. "What? Are you scared?"

The entire shack erupted with gasps. Apparently, that was the ultimate insult for these brutes. "Of course not!" the thug said defensively. "You're going to regret your words."

Blumiere smiled mischievously. "I doubt it. None of you can come even close to matching my power. It's pretty pathetic, actually." Murmurs of resentment rang through the bar.

"Blumiere!" Timpani said worriedly. "What are you doing?"

"Stay close to me," he whispered, not looking at her. Then he continued his charade. "I'm in a bit of a hurry, though. So why don't we do away with the one-on-one? I'll let you all have a go at me at the same time."

"Uh, lad," said O'Chunks nervously. "I'm glad ta help, but I'm not much for fightin' off a whole slew o' soldiers."

"Nonsense," Blumiere continued. "It's the only chance they've got of beating us. Sounds fair enough. So, we'll start on three, shall we?

"One…"

The soldiers tensed up, readying their weapons. Timpani crouched worriedly next to Blumiere, while O'Chunks stood his ground with a hint of uncertainty.

"Two…"

Blumiere glanced around, making sure none of the brutes would be cheap enough to start prematurely. He casually reached into his cloak before announcing the final number.

"Three!"

Just as the warriors rushed him, he grabbed a small black ball from within his cloak and threw it to the ground, shrouding the room in thick smoke. Wasting no time, he grabbed Timpani and O'Chunks, muttered the incantation, and evaporated from the shack with the two of them.

The next thing Blumiere knew, he was surrounded by a field of grass, with a small river flowing behind him. In the distance, the town they had just escaped from was barely visible. Blumiere breathed a sigh of relief. To his right, Timpani sat down, breathing heavily from the ordeal. O'Chunks stood to his left, jaw hanging open in utter disbelief. A few indecipherable noises came from his mouth before he finally managed to put his jaw in place. "What in cheeky cherbils just 'appened?"

"We teleported," said Blumiere. "Or more accurately, shifted dimensions. We should be on the outskirts of the city now."

"I see," said O'Chunks, still trying to comprehend the situation. "So, them fighters who were gonna wrassle with us?"

"They're still fighting, I presume. They'll probably realize we're not there anymore, but not before they bruise each other up some."

O'Chunks laughed a bit, finding the idea amusing. Suddenly, his expression went sour. "Wait just a spleen-twistin' tic! You sayin' we ran from that skirmish?"

Blumiere knelt down to check on Timpani. "There's a time to fight and a time to run. That was definitely a time to run."

"Yeh never run from a fight! It makes yeh a coward! A nothin'! Yeh'd 'ave ta be more spineless 'n a slug on a jell-o mold ta do some'n like that!"

Blumiere and Timpani locked eyes with each other and smiled. Turning to O'Chunks again, he said, "I can live with that. I've got a little too much to live for right now to be the hero."

O'Chunks was confused for a moment. He grimaced at Blumiere, and then to Timpani, and a look of understanding crossed his face. "Ah, I getcha. But what abou' me? I can 'ardly show me face to me chums, anymore."

"As far as I'm concerned, it was noble enough for you to stand against them in your condition."

"What if that's not 'ow they see it?"

"Then you can beat the living snot out of anyone who thinks otherwise. I think you're capable of that."

"Livin' snot, yeh say?" O'Chunks chuckled, apparently delighted by the visual. "Yeh got yerself a strange way o' sayin' things, jimbo, but I s'pose yeh've got a point."

Blumiere smiled. "Of course," he said. "And thank you for your help."

Just as he and Timpani turned to leave, O'Chunks reached out one of his meaty arms. "Hold on now!" Blumiere turned back to see what he wanted. "Yeh can't just leave it like this!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I owe yeh me life is what I'm talkin' about!"

Blumiere rolled his eyes. _Not this again._ "Listen, you don't owe me anything, okay? Just forget about it."

O'Chunks smiled. "I'll keep that in mind, but I'm definitely not jus' forgettin' the whole thing. Yeh coulda finished me then an' there, an' yeh should know _I_ would 'ave if it were the other way around." He put one leg forward in emphasis. "If yeh ever got somethin' that needs poundin', me chunks an' I'll be here for yeh. I swear by the blood o' me beard hairs yeh can count on it!"

Blumiere wasn't exactly sure how to reply to this. Shrugging, he simply said, "Well, thank you. Now, we need to be going. So, it was nice meeting you—"

"Wait!" said Timpani. "We can't just leave him here." She looked over concernedly at O'Chunks, who let out a burly laugh.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about me, lassie! I've got me own natural transportation." Facing the distant city, he squatted into a crouching position.

Blumiere looked at him disgustedly. "You can't possibly mean…"

"Thanks for everythin'! Wish the two o' yeh the best o' luck." With that, he gazed onward at his destination. "CHUNKS AWAY!" He blasted off into the air, leaving behind a somewhat disturbing noise and a matching odor.

Blumiere and Timpani simply stood by and watched, flabbergasted at what they had seen. Unable to look away, Blumiere muttered, "And to think, this place seemed so peaceful and serene when we first found it."

Timpani nodded. "To think we almost got married in this place." They both turned away from O'Chunks' launch point and faced each other. As the noise of his liftoff died away, the field became oddly silent, save for the river that flowed indefinitely behind them. Suddenly, they both burst into fits of laughter. All the anger that Blumiere had harbored faded into oblivion. He wasn't exactly sure why he was laughing, perhaps out of the ridiculousness of the whole situation, but it felt good and certainly lifted his spirits.

After about a minute, the two of them managed to calm down. "So," Blumiere spoke up. "Shall we try somewhere else?"

"I think it's getting a little bit late. We should find a place to rest for the night."

Blumiere sighed. "I suppose you're right."

Timpani, noticing his disappointment, wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, planting another kiss on his lips. "We'll have our day. I promise. Just be patient."

Blumiere managed to smile again. "I know. We should get going. I think I know of a nice inn where we can stay for the night. Sound good?"

"As long as we're together."

"Always." He murmured the incantation, and the world around them faded away once again.

* * *

**Wow... This was a long chapter. **

**So, I decided to take a bit of a break from the whole drama aspect and take a more humorous approach to the story. Thus, this chapter was born! Enjoy it, because after this, it's right back to the main plot.**

**Also, before you ask, Dimentio will not be making an appearance in this story. :( While I can say that the other characters could theoretically have known Blumiere as he was, I found out that certain elements of the game script make it pretty clear that Dimentio and Blumiere don't meet until after the whole Dark Prognosticus thing. Darn it...**

**Anyway, I hope you loved it! ...And that it wasn't _too _long. I shall update soon! ...Hopefully! Optimism is healthy, so I'm going with yes!**


	9. Stargazing

**Chapter 9: Stargazing**

"Beautiful…" Timpani was nothing sort of awestruck as they walked through the marshlands. The swamps of Gloam Valley had at first sounded somewhat repellent. Now, as the sun's rays shined against the ever-growing vines, they gave off a faint green glimmer in the air, displaying beauty in even the most unlikely of places.

Blumiere and Timpani walked slowly along a narrow rocky path through the marsh, careful not to step into the puddles that occasionally littered the path. Timpani was beaming widely as the sun shone on her face with an odd, green glow. "I wouldn't mind living in a place like this," she said. "It's so surreal, like a dream almost."

By the hue of her face, Blumiere would have suspected sickness had she not looked so excited. Even in the green veil, though, she looked beautiful. Her elation swelled until it overflowed into him, so that everything she took in affected him as well; the tall vines, the glowing air, the smell of moss and water. For a brief moment, he had a glimpse of the world in her eyes.

_Splash!_

Blumiere's thoughts were instantly disrupted as a freezing sensation ran up his right leg. He jolted back, glancing down at his now soaked foot. The water ran all the way up past his ankle, stopping near the middle of his shin. "Perhaps someplace a little less wet?" he muttered, attempting a laugh as he tried to shake his foot dry. Timpani knelt down to help him. "Hold on," he said, holding up a hand to stop her. He placed both his hands on his leg and pressed. Soon, steam began to rise up from his foot. It rose in a foggy cloud until all of the water had seeped out of his clothes, and he was just as dry as before.

"Wow," Timpani said. "You didn't even have to say anything."

"Looks like I'm getting better," said Blumiere confidently. "Still, I'm not particularly fond of puddles." He looked down disdainfully at the small pool, which still rippled mockingly at him.

"You have to admit, though, it's a wonderful place!" Timpani exclaimed, gazing up through the tops of the trees. "This is my favorite spot so far."

Blumiere smiled. "I couldn't agree more. I think we may be close to finding what we're looking for." Timpani smiled in return, sharing in the excitement. As the wind began to pick up, Timpani began to shiver. Blumiere's smile faded in almost an instant. "You're getting cold."

"I'm fine," Timpani tried to assure him, but he was not convinced.

"We should leave. It will be dark soon."

"You don't have to worry so much. I'm very much capable of taking care of myself, thank you," she added playfully.

Blumiere laughed in spite of his worries. Still, the quickly setting sun unnerved him. It seemed the days in this world were significantly shorter than he and Timpani were used to.

Timpani noticed his growing concern. "We don't have to leave so soon, do we? I feel like we just got here."

Blumiere considered the thought. "We could find a place nearby to rest, but we should start on a fire. It's about time to settle down before it gets too cold."

Timpani nodded in agreement. "Okay."

Blumiere was dismayed to see the disappointment in her eyes. "We always have tomorrow. It's like you said, we'll have our day."

Timpani couldn't hide her doubts, but she smiled. "As long as we're together?" she asked.

"Always." It was something they would say to each other almost every day. Blumiere couldn't exactly remember when it had started, but it was the motive that had driven them to push through the harder times. Now was no different. He knew they would have their day soon. It was his promise to her, and he would do whatever it took to keep it.

The couple wandered away from the swampy marsh, looking for a dry place to stay for the night. Darkness had already begun to fall by the time they found an appropriate place in the midst of the trees. Fortunately, it would be an easy place to find wood. It took Blumiere perhaps a half hour to gather a sufficient amount to prepare a campfire.

Once he felt that he'd collected enough, he began to pile the bigger sticks in a circle, placing them largest to smallest. He formed each layer closer together until it formed a pyramid. In the weeks past, such a task took more than a few frustrating attempts, but it became easier each passing day until, at last, he had perfected the chore.

It seemed that he had experienced everything else in much the same way. He looked back, rather embarrassedly, at the first week of their adventure together. Most days had ended in frustration, whether from a series of failures or the fear of never finding what they set out to look for. To the best of his ability, Blumiere tried to control himself. After all, he was the one who had invited her to travel. After the first week, remaining calm became much easier as he and Timpani became accustomed to living out in the open. Now, it seemed, all their searching was about to pay off.

"Blumiere!" Timpani's voice rang swiftly through the forest. Blumiere turned his head, searching for the source of the call. Soon, Timpani appeared from behind one of the trees, dashing excitedly towards him.

"What's wrong?" Blumiere asked in concern.

Timpani grabbed his arm. "You have to see this!" she exclaimed. Her eyes were dancing. "Come with me!" With that, she began to walk away from the pile of wood, leading Blumiere along.

"What is it?" Blumiere asked, his curiosity almost unbearable.

"You'll see. Just wait a moment." They continued wandering through the forest. As they walked, it occurred to Blumiere that it would be rather difficult to locate the campfire. He dreaded having to do the work again, but he decided to forego the thought for now.

As they reached the edge of the forest, Timpani turned to him. "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Just trust me." Blumiere laughed, but willfully obeyed her. She grabbed his hand and gently led him out of the woods. Once the shadow of the forest left them, Blumiere could sense a great light shining down on his eyelids, disturbing the darkness momentarily. He wondered what sort of thing could have caused such powerful light. Perhaps a full moon?

The grass became thinner and tamer the further they walked. Finally, Timpani stopped walking and held her hand to Blumiere's chest to stop him. "Okay," she whispered excitedly. "Look up." Blumiere opened his eyes and turned his head up to the sky. What he saw made him gasp.

Before he met Timpani, he had not had much experience with the stars. He'd read maps and studied the constellations, but he had never seen them for himself. The first time he had experienced stargazing, he was awestruck by the beauty of the night sky. It was as if everything he had read in books and archives had come to life right before his eyes.

This new planet, however, was an entirely new experience. There was no moon in sight, but sprawled out before them was an endless black canvas, splattered with white painted stars. Many were clumped together, forming new patterns and galaxies. A milky white streak covered a good portion of the sky, fused with a mixture of colored stars and planets. Not an inch of the blackness of space could be seen through the mass of light.

Blumiere was stricken speechless. The dazzling light nearly blinded him where he stood. It was impossible to comprehend how much his eyes were taking in. A small tug distracted him—only slightly—and pulled him gently down. Without thinking, he followed the tug, kneeling down until he was in a sitting position.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Timpani asked, sounding just as excited as Blumiere felt.

"It's beautiful," was all he could say in reply. As one, he and Timpani lay together, gazing up at the celestial display.

"There's a tradition in my village," Timpani said, still gazing skyward. "We believe that wishes on stars come true."

"Is that so?" said Blumiere, chuckling. He looked out at the sky again. The stars on this night would be enough for more wishes than they could ever think of. "In that case, we'd better get wishing, don't you think? It would take all night to wish on all of these stars."

Timpani laughed cheerily. As her voice faded away, she turned her head to him, her expression serene. "I don't need to wish anymore," she whispered.

"Mmm?"

She smiled. "I already got my wish. Now…" She leaned in closer to him. "I have everything I need right here." They embraced each other tightly, ever more grateful for each other's company. Blumiere shared her thoughts, only wishing that it would never end.

A breeze wafted across the field, shaking the trees behind them. As it blew over them, Blumiere sensed Timpani's shiver. It was slight, but it was enough to make him worry again. Suddenly, the memory of the fire invaded his thoughts. "Timpani, aren't you cold?"

"Not at all," she answered quickly. "I'm very warm." Blumiere wasn't convinced, but Timpani only leaned in closer, looking deep into his eyes. "Can we stay like this? Just a little longer?" His worrying did not cease, but he could see the happiness in her eyes again, a happiness that she wasn't willing to trade for something as trivial as heat. He felt he had no right to ruin the moment, so he let her have her wish. The two of them lay in the field together, sharing in each other's comfort and warmth until, eventually, they both drifted to sleep.

* * *

**Hey guys! Miss me? So, I took a bit of a two-month respite to get accustomed to college life again. I'm back in the groove, and I've even finished most of the future chapters! I don't know why, but this one was the hardest to write so far. I'm not sure how it turned out, so I'll let you guys judge. Enjoy!**


	10. Sleepless

**Chapter 10: Sleepless**

Timpani awoke in a panic to the quiet of the night, gasping sharply for a breath of real air. She sat up, suddenly fearing the darkness that surrounded her. Her eyes scanned the area around her in search of the invisible assailer. Eventually, her eyes fell on Blumiere, sleeping peacefully beside her, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

_Only a dream…_

Sitting there, she fought to regain control of her shaking limbs. Her rapid breathing gradually dissipated until she had completely calmed herself. Soon, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, with the help of the stars. Only the forest behind her was covered in shadow.

Finally, after a good deep breath, she managed to control herself. She rested her forehead wearily on her palms, unconsciously running her fingers through the bangs of her hair. Although the "danger" had passed, she was still unnerved. _I thought I was through with these dreams_. She hadn't had a nightmare like that since their adventure started. She thought—hoped, at least—they had disappeared with her scars. It seemed her mind still wasn't safe.

Letting out a deep, frustrated breath, Timpani picked herself up off the ground and began to walk. Pacing always seemed to help her calm down. She never dared to walk out of sight of Blumiere, but rather paced in a small circle in the field.

_This has to stop_, she thought. _I can't keep having these nightmares._

Of all they had been through on their adventure, one fear haunted her, as illogical as it might be. There was so much else to be afraid of. So many other things could happen to cause her harm, especially in such unfamiliar territories. For all she knew, they could unwittingly stumble cross anything, anyone who might be considered dangerous. But that was not what she feared.

The memory remained. The red, furious eyes were ingrained in her memory. Sometimes, she still felt the sting of the scars on her arms. Now, after more than a month had passed, she still feared his return more than anything else. No matter how many times she might tell herself that they could not be found, she spent sleepless nights anxiously watching for Beauregard's face.

She turned her head down to Blumiere. He was still asleep on the field, blissfully unaware of her troubles. She considered waking him from his slumber. If he was awake, she could rest easy, knowing that he would protect her. She need only shake him gently, and tell him what had happened. He would surely understand.

_No_, she thought to herself, turning away. She had come this far already. She didn't need to worry him about what was happening to her. It was pointless to burden him with her troubles. The nightmares would pass eventually on their own, but for now it was her problem, not his.

_Crack!_

Timpani whirled around in fright, facing the forest. Her heart resumed its incessant pounding. "Hello?" she called out tentatively. A strong gust of wind rustled the leaves and blew past her, making her shiver. Despite the cold air, she began to break out in a cold sweat. Her body shook again. _Calm down_. _It's nothing. Just a broken branch_. The wind continued to blow against the trees forcefully. The branches scraped against one another violently, creating a series of dull scratching noises. Every noise of the forest, it seemed, reached her ears.

She walked back to her spot next to Blumiere, but she dared not move her eyes away from the deadly assembly of trees. She feared to even blink. "There's nothing there," she continued to tell herself. "We're alone." The wind roared even louder in retaliation. The pit in her stomach grew larger. She was on the verge of panic. Unable to stand it any longer, he knelt down next to Blumiere and, putting her hands on his side, began to shake him.

"Blumiere," she whispered, trying to be gentle at first. As the wind grew in strength, her resolve soon began to disappear. She shook him harder to wake him up. "Blumiere." He wouldn't stir. "Blumiere, wake up!" She shook him roughly now, but he showed no sign of reacting. She wouldn't give up, continuing to shake him awake. She was so focused on her task that, as the wind began to die down, she almost failed to notice the eerie silence pervading the valley.

Almost…

She stopped her shouting and shaking, taking in the sudden silence. She could feel another presence, a dismally familiar presence. She didn't have to look to know he was there. She didn't want to look, but she knew she had to. Turning her eyes from Blumiere, she gazed out at the field beyond and saw him; the man of her nightmares, her fears; the man she hoped she would never have to face again.

The red eyes of Beauregard gazed back at her.

Timpani's eyes were transfixed to his. Her hands unconsciously continued in their vain attempt to wake Blumiere. Beauregard, noticing this, spoke in his usual raspy voice. "Don't bother. He won't wake."

Timpani was only vaguely aware of what her arms were doing. She retracted her arms. "H-How…?" She tried to speak, but her rapidly spiking fear paralyzed her.

"How did I find you?" He walked steadily closer to her. With great difficulty, she forced her legs underneath her and stood up. Her senses told her to run, but she could not leave Blumiere's side. "It's amazing how much energy is required to travel between worlds, how much the surrounding air is disturbed by such an act. In many cases, it leaves a trail so thick, even a novice tracker would have no trouble in locating the source." His piercing gaze traveled down to Blumiere. "Something my forgetful son failed to anticipate."

The demeanor of Beauregard's voice was surprisingly calm. His eyes didn't show the same fury that she had seen before, which calmed her, if only slightly. She looked down at Blumiere, who hadn't yet moved. She was suddenly filled with worry. "What did you do to him?"

Beauregard glanced back up at her amusedly. "He's under a spell, nothing more. I reasoned that if he adores the sun so much, I could allow the morning light to break his slumber. He's not the one you should be worried about." He smirked demonically, taking a slow, resolute step toward her.

"What do you want?" she asked, fearful yet firm.

Beauregard raised his eyes curiously, impressed by her bold front. "My dear, you need to ask?" He was less threatening to her now, as if he only wished to calm her. If that had been his intent, it wasn't successful by any means. "I suppose you can't be blamed completely. You're young, naïve." With each word he took a daunting step closer to his prey. "Too immature to understand your place." Timpani backed away slowly, trying to maintain their distance. "I would be happy to instruct you again."

Timpani took one more step back before hitting the heavy trunk of a tree. She swallowed nervously, grasping the trunk for comfort. Her arms trembled, unwilling to face the same torture again. "P-please," she sputtered, finding it difficult to form words. "D-don't come closer."

Beauregard let out a short, humorless laugh. "And why's that?" Timpani could not answer, her mind failing her. "Are you afraid? Don't be ashamed. Cowardice is a very common trait in humans, I've found."

As Timpani's survival instincts began to kick in, she realized that her voice was her only hope. Fumbling for more words, she spoke the only thought that came to mind. "I love him."

Beauregard stopped. "Love." To Timpani's surprise, he seemed almost shocked by the word. He gazed at her hollowly. "That you would be bold enough to use such a word in my presence… Perhaps you're not so cowardly after all, but your stupidity surpasses that of your peers." He stood to his full height. "Do you know what they say of him in my Circle? It's almost a legend now; the boy who ran off with a human. The prince who disowned his inheritance and abandoned his father. The traitor who brought shame to the Tribe of Darkness." He spoke each word deliberately, exuding a dignified but very forced calm.

Timpani's mind raced. She had to keep talking. She had to stall him. "Please, you have to believe me. That was not his intent. We chose this life together, and we're happy with it."

"Don't you dare speak for him!" he shouted, his anger rising rapidly. She was running out of time. "He's barely a man! He can't possibly know what I know about you. I've seen your tricks and your lies." Whatever Timpani had thought to say was lost in Beauregard's words. What was he talking about? "Do you think I don't remember? What you did to me?" Something strange was happening to Beauregard, but Timpani couldn't figure it out. His eyes seemed to fade in and out of focus. "I was just like him. I didn't listen to my father's words. I trusted myself to you, and you took everything!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You left me to your lot," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "They treated me like a monster. It was just as my father warned. Nothing but violent, savage creatures."

Timpani's fear escalated. Beauregard was being irrational. There was no telling what he might do. "I-it's not like that," she said, trying to bring him back. "I would never do that to Blumiere."

"You may think that." For a few moments, Beauregard's eyes refocused on her. "You think you'll love him forever? That you're _special_ from the rest of your kind? How long will you go on living like this before you realize the truth?"

"What truth?"

Beauregard stepped closer now, until his face was mere inches from hers. It took all of Timpani's self control not to burst out in terror. Almost breathlessly, he replied, "You will abandon him one day."

Timpani closed her eyes, trying to suppress her fear. She recognized her opportunity to reason with him. Choosing her words carefully, she replied in a deliberate tone, "Is that what you think of me?" She opened her eyes again to look at Beauregard, who had backed away only slightly, curious to hear more. "You're right. Humans can be cruel." She recalled the men who had "rescued" her from Blumiere weeks before. "They can be hasty. But not all of us are like that." Beauregard grunted in apparent doubt. "I love him. And no matter what happens, no matter what you say, I will always love him."

Beauregard sneered. "Pretty words, but they're all meaningless. You're a traitor like all the others were, and it won't be long before—"

"Stop it!" she shouted, her frustration erupting. Care for her safety disappeared now. She would not take his insults anymore. "You don't know me! You don't know what I feel for Blumiere. Stop trying to tear us apart from each other. You can't keep comparing our future with your past."

Those last words did it… She could see it in his eyes now, the dark deliberate sharpness fading into an eerie, almost milky texture. He had changed, but not for the better. Slowly, almost mechanically, he straightened to his full height and reached out a stiff arm towards her. Timpani could tell now that no more words of hers could save her from him. Her mind quickly kicked into gear, screaming one single thought, one action, the only thing she had left now.

_Run._

Tucking in her right shoulder, she jammed her arm into Beauregard's core to incapacitate him. Wasting no time, she used her momentum to swerve around the tree and bolted into the forest. It wasn't long before darkness overtook her, hindering her sight. Unable to see, she slowed her pace to a jog, holding out her arms to keep from stumbling headfirst into a tree. On many occasions she was forced to change her direction to avoid the trees, but she dared not stop, hoping the darkness of the forest could hide her. For one fleeting moment, she recalled her captor's nocturnal eyes, but she refused to give in. For minutes, she continued running deeper into the forest, unable to see anything.

When she could run no longer, she grabbed a tree for support and leaned down, trying to catch her breath quickly. She tried to breathe quietly, but that proved extremely difficult. Taking a few huffs of much needed air, she groped desperately for something, _anything_ to defend herself with. There was nothing in reach, and she realized dejectedly that nothing could protect her from him. She leaned against the tree resignedly, hoping that perhaps she had lost him in the woods. Or perhaps he had come to his senses and stopped searching. All she had to do was survive through the night. Then Blumiere would wake and save her.

Her hopes did not last long, shattered as she felt a cold, dead hand grab her shoulder. Spinning her around, Beauregard pinned her back to the tree. In the pitch darkness, all she could see was his hollow, callous red eyes.

"Please," she whispered desperately. "Please don't kill me…"

"Kill you?" Beauregard asked in dark jest. "My dear, when did I owe you such a courtesy?"

With one hand pinning her arm, he used his free hand to grab her throat. Timpani's entire body trembled now, her heart beating out of her chest. Her only conscious thought echoed through her mouth. "Blumiere…"

"Blumiere won't help you now, dear. No one will." Slowly, Timpani's senses began to numb. It started in her legs and worked its way up until she felt nothing. It was as if she would disappear at any moment. Her will to fight weakened as all feeling and emotion was sucked out of her. Her sight quickly followed. The darkness grew until even the ghastly red eyes began to fade away. Before succumbing completely to it, a small, almost distant voice accompanied her.

"Bon voyage, my love."

* * *

**Wow... Just wow. **

**So, here's chapter 10! I was kind of dreading this part of the story. At the same time, I kind of like this chapter.**

**So, in the immortal words of a well-renowned hero: "Goodbye, you all! I'll see you in therapy!" *Zap!***


	11. The Onlooker

**Chapter 11: The Onlooker**

"Alright, my zombie brethren, are you having a great time tonight?" The question was returned with a reluctant groan from the audience. The stage announcer was slightly taken aback at the lack of enthusiasm. It seemed he had expected his alleged cleverness to rile them up. Backstage, the man watching him chuckled to himself. _It wasn't a very flattering announcement, after all,_ he thought to himself.

"Well then, perhaps you're not in the mood to see the final act of the night." At this, a few members of the crowd cheered loudly. The announcer failed to catch the sarcasm in their voices. "Now, that's more like it! Perhaps the Underwhere isn't such a dim place after all, eh?"

The man behind stage groaned for the audience. _Just announce me before you make things worse._ "Alright then! Shaydes… and Jaydes," he added winking at the gorgeous soul-keeper. "I present to you for the first time in the Underwhere, the herald of darkness, master of dimensions… DI-MEN-CHI-ON!"

_Dimentio, you overpaid buffoon._ Nonetheless, hopeful watchers cheered with sincere excitement, anticipating the marvelous finale. "Looks like it's time to deliver," Dimentio muttered. He glanced at the announcer, who had not seemed to realize his time on stage had ended. "But first…" Dimentio snapped his fingers and surrounded himself in a large puff of smoke that blotted out everything. He heard the gasps of the audience just before the smoke began to dissipate. Once his sight had been regained, he found himself in the middle of the stage, standing directly in front of the shocked audience.

After a moment of confused silence, a few of the audience members began to cheer. Dimentio took an overdramatic bow, glancing around at the room he was in. The area was outdoors but still seemed rather small. One side of the dead field was situated with a bar. The courtyard was assorted with tables, with about three or four Shaydes to each. The queen of the Underwhere, Jaydes, also sat among them. Still, the dwindling number disappointed Dimentio. _You would think with all that's gone wrong in the universe, this place should be a bit fuller._

Standing up straight from his bow, he raised his hands to quiet the crowd. "And so I arrive, like a blizzard on a three-day hike. I thank you all!" As he raised his arms, he noticed that his clothes felt tight. Observing himself, he realized that he had accidentally switched himself into the announcer's clothes. _Well, he won't need them anymore, I suppose_. "My apologies, ladies and gentleman. Allow me to perform a quick wardrobe check. He snapped his fingers once more, and the clothes disappeared, immediately replaced with his own apparel, which consisted of a large hat, a wide silk shirt, and black pants. His hat and shirt alternated in stripes of purple and cream color, and they spiked out around him, giving him the semblance of a star.

"Ha ha! Much better! I could never turn my back on such amazing fashion! And so, our little finale begins!" With that, he held out his hand, revealing a visible ball of energy free-floating around it. The energy ball floated higher into the air, splitting into five parts. The crowd watched in amazement at the dazzling lights. With a snap of Dimentio's fingers, the lights disappeared. The crowd watched in anticipation. A small mischievous grin appeared on Dimentio's face as he reeled both his arms back. Swinging them forward, he howled with pleasure, and a series of explosions erupted from out of the air. The crowd roared with delight, applauding loudly at the spectacle.

"Too easy," Dimentio chuckled to himself. "Dazzling, isn't it?" he said aloud. "Do you want more?" The audience rooted even louder now, feeding his ego. Dimentio smiled contentedly. _This is what I love_…

Soon after the furor from his act had subsided, Dimentio rested himself next to the bar, the only somewhat lively place left of the world, despite the depressing mood of the barkeeper, who sat down cleaning a dirty glass with an even dirtier cloth. "Could I get one for the road, please?" He glanced down at the rag. "Preferably one that hasn't been cleaned in a while."

The short, fat barkeeper continued rubbing on the glass, leaving questionable black stains on the rims. "It'll cost ya," he muttered. "Thirty coins."

Dimentio grunted. "Can't you get this for free down at the fountain?"

"Convenience fee, unless you wanna walk all the way over there."

"You're dead. What good is my money to you?"

The barkeeper didn't react. Perhaps he was used to such comments. "'S long as it's not yours anymore, I can get by." Dimentio rolled his eyes in annoyance and dug in his pockets for the loose change.

"Half my earnings for today, if it makes you feel better," he muttered, throwing the money on the table. The barkeeper reached in back and grabbed a mug, which looked slightly less dirty than the one he had just cleaned, and filled it with an orange liquid. Dimentio grasped the mug and observed it. The liquid was frothy and pungent. It had an almost unearthly texture. Slowly, Dimentio raised the mug to his lips, unwilling to spill a single drop.

The concoction tasted slightly bitter, neutralizing the rich syrupy texture. As he swallowed it, the liquid burned inside his throat, a sensation that flowed outward to his limbs, giving him a revitalizing boost of energy. "Sweet nectar…" He mumbled. He took one more sip before looking back up at the bartender. "You know what's funny?"

The bartender grunted. "Something tells me you and I got a very different idea of funny."

Dimentio chuckled. "Very true…" He paused for a moment, considering if he should continue. "If you were to look at all the vices of living beings, every little guilty pleasure one might have, I believe you could classify it all into one simple word." He waited for a curious reply from the barkeeper. Receiving none, he went on. "Addiction! That one simple concept that can turn any reputable man straight on the road to the Underwhere. And now…" He glanced casually at his mug. "That same irresistible urge lies within this, the very sustainer of this wretched world. Do you know what that means?"

"'Fraid not," the barkeeper replied without looking up.

Dimentio smiled elatedly. "I am drinking the Nectar of Everyone's Sins! Interesting, no?"

"No."

Dimentio managed a frown, though it seemed in jest. "It seems you don't enjoy my company much."

"Why'd you even come to a place like this? I'm sure you could get a better gig somewhere else."

Dimentio was taken aback. "Are you suggesting I'd think myself too good for a place such as this? I am offended." The barkeeper glanced at him skeptically. Almost immediately, Dimentio gave in. "Well, I guess it wouldn't harm me in any way if you knew. I'm doing this for a certain… someone."

"If you're trying to impress your way to the Overthere, you're gonna have to do better than that."

"Oh, heavens no. I don't intend to revisit this place anytime soon. I'll never have to if things go right."

The barkeeper grunted a sort of laugh. "Yeah, trust me, you're not the first to claim that."

"Oh dear! If others have failed in their task, I must be doomed to fail as well!" He fell dramatically over the counter. "I suppose my entire mission is only a farce. My entire life's work ruined in a single moment! Very well, if fate is really that cruel to me, I shall depart this world, like a cold-soled bride on her wedding day."

"That's a pretty morbid piece of poetry right there."

Dimentio jumped back into his seat, all signs of his dramatic performance disappearing from his face. "You think so? I've had a bit of practice in improvising my poetry. With a compliment like that, I suppose it means I'm improving."

"It wasn't supposed to be a compliment. Enough gloom down here without you adding more misery to it."

"If you look at it that way, I suppose. But it's as I say, one man's misery is simply another man's…" He paused, looking back at the door. A cloaked stranger entered through the courtyard. Without wasting a moment, the stranger spotted the closest table and took his seat. "Opportunity…" Dimentio finished. He continued looking back at the man, his glass of nectar forgotten.

Soon after the stranger had taken his seat, the queen Jaydes shuffled over to him. The two of them began speaking, but Dimentio couldn't hear them through the racket. He considered getting closer but quickly decided it wasn't worth the risk. _Does she know, perhaps?_

"Excuse me." He turned back to the bartender. "Who is Jaydes speaking to?"

The bartender looked up. "Not sure… Oh." For the first time, his hands had stopped cleaning the mug. He leaned over to get a closer look at the duo. "Oh. That would be Lord Blumiere. I've heard about his story. Poor fool's been searching for his lover."

"Has he now?" Dimentio asked, feigning ignorance. "Why search for her in a place like this?"

"That's just the tragedy of it. He feels he's got nowhere else to search. He's been here on occasion, checking in to see if maybe she had passed on. If she's really dead, he can't be with her anymore, but it'd be sort of a relief for him, you know? Jaydes has promised to tell him as soon as she ends up here, but so far…" He shook his head, going back to his precious mug. "It's a pretty sad situation at any rate. As long as she's alive, he wastes his life looking for her. Then again, if she ends up dead, that might just be worse."

Dimentio gazed on at Queen Jaydes. _So it seems she does know the story, as does everyone else, it seems._ He considered for a moment if such information could ruin his plans.

"What're you thinkin' about now?" the bartender asked curiously.

Without looking back Dimentio replied, "I am always thinking, as does every living thing. Such an irrelevant question is not worth my time." The bartender was taken aback at his sudden shift in attitude, but he didn't care. It worried him to think that others knew what he had thought only he was aware of.

He shook off the thought. It couldn't be helped. It was nigh impossible to hide such things from Queen Jaydes. As far as he could tell, their knowledge would not affect his plans. He had covered every base, every possible outcome. Now it all relied on Blumiere's actions. Despite the high hopes of Jaydes, Timpani would not be arriving anytime soon. Dimentio had made certain of that. It had been almost too easy, appealing to Beauregard's furious nature, showing him the one spell that would truly end his "troubles". After all, if Timpani had simply lost her life, what would stop Blumiere from ending his own?

But as long as she still lives, he would stay alive to find her. For the sake of that small but futile hope, he would search and search until the fatigue drove him mad. _Mad enough for desperation_, Dimentio thought excitedly. Eventually, he would begin to long for an easier solution, a more powerful solution. His mind would wander back to the recollections of his heritage. It would be slow, but certain: the memory turning to whispers and rumors of a dark tool… Forbidden, yet boundlessly powerful. His spell alone would unlock the potential of this device, and then it would consume him. Crippled, he would be defenseless against the simplest thief. _Or in my case, the cleverest._ By the time anyone realized what had happened, Dimentio will have found his unstoppable source of power.

So the girl would remain alive, for now at least; cursed to wander through dimensions for all eternity. A cruel fate, but necessary for what needed to be done. _My apologies, Dear, but with every war there will be casualties_.

Still, Dimentio's patience had begun to grow short. After searching for so long, it seemed that the idea of a new power had not even crossed Blumiere's mind. He continued to wander stupidly between each dimension, hoping that somehow he would accomplish the impossible. _He has quite a reserve of stamina, I'll admit._ Dimentio considered introducing himself, perhaps to lead him on the right track.

_No… He mustn't know about me._ It wasn't worth the risk. The last thing he wanted to arouse suspicion. It was risky enough revealing himself to Blumiere's father. _I've gotten this far. I can wait a little longer. Patience, dear Dimentio._

Suddenly, a speck of light flickered in and out of his focus. He turned to look, but it had disappeared the moment he tried to find it. "Strange," he thought to himself. He almost turned his attention back to Blumiere when the light suddenly returned, a bit brighter now. Jumping to his feet, he quickly turned his attention to the source. This time, the light stayed in place. It had no form at first, barely even visible, resembling a sort of ethereal radiance. Soon, the ball began to form into a lucid shape. A human… Female.

She was still transparent, evanescent even, but it was undeniably a human girl. There was also no doubt that she was in pain. Dimentio was astounded at seeing such a spectacle. _An illusion for an illusionist._ It wasn't simply that her presence confounded him, but there was something strikingly familiar about her. As much as it bothered him, his fascination overwhelmed his memory. He nearly gave it up as futile until she glided to one of the tables and, with a great amount of effort, mouthed a single, devastating word.

"Blumiere…"

The realization swept over him in a wave of horror. _No. Not here! What are the chances?_ He turned to Blumiere, who had poked his head up from the table. Apparently, he had felt her presence as well. He turned to find the source.

_No, you don't!_ Dimentio snapped his fingers quickly and watched in content as the tip of Blumiere's cape burst into flames. The blaze distracted him from the phantom's touch, and he exclaimed in shock, trying to rid himself of the deadly cape. Jaydes muttered a spell, dousing the fire instantly. Blumiere sat himself down again, trying to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he looked up at Jaydes and gave his thanks.

Apparently remembering what had caught his attention, he turned away, looking for the one who had called his name, but she was gone now, thrust into the next dimension once again. Dimentio sighed in relief. _Too close. I can't let something like that destroy this. Not now._ Rethinking the situation, he decided it may have been for the better. An experience like this just may drive Blumiere to desperation. It was only a matter of time now before temptation would come his way in the form of a little black book.

_I think my waiting days are about to come to an end_, Dimentio thought to himself, sitting back in his chair.

"What in blazes!" The bartender screamed in surprise as a befuddled man scrambled out of the back room. The strange man was clad only in underwear, and he gazed around the room in utter confusion. "What're you doing back there!" the bartender shouted angrily.

"I-I don't know," the man replied. "The last thing I remember was a stage, and… and then there was smoke, and… I don't know. Next thing I knew I was in here."

The barkeeper calmed down and gave Dimentio a knowing glance. "I see." Dimentio laughed aloud. _I wondered where I'd sent him_.

"Not to be a bother, but where are my clothes?"

"Not sure," Dimentio cut in. "But I'd find your way out of the courtyard before Queen Jaydes sees you in all your glory. I heard she doesn't have a very flattering sense of humor."

The embarrassed man nodded in agreement and quickly jumped over the bar. He stumbled away and out of the courtyard, receiving strange glances and more than a few chuckles. Soon after, Blumiere stood from his table and walked to the exit as well, apparently to continue his search elsewhere.

Dimentio chuckled to himself. "There they go, two fools searching vainly for what can never be found. I do love poetry..."

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**So, I ended up writing this chapter, deleting it completely, and then rewriting it with a different setting. On the bright side, I managed to put Dimentio into this story after all! And now, I've officially finished writing all of the chapters, so I'll update each one on a weekly basis. For now, hope this one was worth the wait!**

**Also... I award myself 50 Schrute bucks for using the word "evanescence" in a sentence. Love that band... Anyway, from the immortal words of Dimentio, "Ciao!"**


	12. Broken Promises

**Chapter 12: Broken Promises**

_Knock. Knock._

Blumiere grimaced at the irritating noise, gripping his metal-tipped pen in a tight fist. He hated interruptions. It made him lose his bearings and only wasted time, something he couldn't afford to lose. He had assumed that locking himself in the attic of the castle would send a message to the others, but the interruptions still hadn't ceased. Reluctantly, he waved his hand and noted the click as the door unlocked and opened. Under normal circumstances he would have left it locked, but he knew the endless banter would simply continue, if for nothing else than their reassurance that he was still alive.

Still, he felt a need to express his annoyance. "It was locked for a reason."

His complaint was followed by a brief silence. Then… "I-I'm sorry, Master Blumiere. Did you want some tea?"

_Mimi_…

Blumiere let out a forced sigh, trying to calm himself. He had no quarrel with her, after all. "It's alright, Mimi. But you know I don't want to be bothered."

Mimi remained quiet again. For a moment, it seemed that she had disappeared, but Blumiere didn't turn around to check. Instead, he returned to his maps, trying to relocate his thoughts again. "We just worry about you."

Blumiere closed his eyes, trying to hide his rising impatience. "I'm alright."

"Have you talked to Master Beau—"

"I'll handle my own affairs, Mimi. Thank you."

Another pause, and then… "I'm sorry, Master Blumiere. Good-goodnight." And she was gone.

Blumiere grabbed the pen and focused on the map once again. He detested the constant distractions. If it weren't for the supply of maps in his father's castle, he would have found a more peaceful locale to do his work. But the maps were invaluable to his mission. He couldn't afford to waste time wandering aimlessly through each world.

Dozens of maps were accumulated along the desk, each with markings and scratches that depicted areas he had searched. So far, his efforts proved fruitless, but he had many more worlds to search through. There was bound to be an answer somewhere. He only had to keep searching.

On many occasions the thought occurred to him that perhaps what he was looking for existed elsewhere, a place his father had not yet discovered. He would quickly push the thought out of his head. Contemplating the futility of his search was, in itself, futile. If this mission failed, he had nothing else. And so, he would continue searching.

As he scribbled his writings into the next map, he felt another presence looming over him. Without turning, he spoke in a mechanical tone, "Mimi's already offered me tea. I'm fine for the night, thank you." He continued writing, despite noticing that the stranger had not left.

"That's not why I'm here." Blumiere stopped. It was the only voice that could have made him cease his work… One of two, actually. He placed his pen on the desk and stood from his chair.

"It was only a matter of time, I suppose," he spoke nonchalantly.

"Two years, is it?" Beauregard whispered. "A bit later than I'd hoped."

Blumiere stood to his full height, something he hadn't done in a long time, and faced his father. "Whose fault would that be?" Beauregard cracked a humorless grin. His face had aged significantly, sagging much more than it used to. His eyes had become hollow and dull, and he stooped as he stood. Supplementing his figure was an overwhelming sense of fatigue. It almost surprised Blumiere how much he had changed in only two years. On the other hand, it had been awhile since he took a good look at himself. Perhaps he had become much the same. At the very least, he felt the way his father looked.

"I suppose it would be mine," Beauregard replied. Even his voice had aged, taking on a rougher quality. He glanced down at the countless maps sprawled across the desk. "Any luck?"

"What do you think?" he replied venomously.

Beauregard didn't react to the insult. "I suppose you've seen much of the universe at so young an age. That's a good thing."

"Enough." The last thing Blumiere wanted now was small talk. "If you don't have anything important to say, then I'm really rather busy." Without waiting for a reply, he turned around and seated himself again, looking down at the map.

For a while, Beauregard did not say a word, nor did he leave. Blumiere continued to work hazily on the maps. His focus was long gone, but he hoped that his deliberate actions would deter his father from speaking further.

"When will this end, Blumiere?" As usual, he was mistaken.

"When I find what I'm looking for," he replied without turning.

"You'll never find her."

"That's what you would like to happen, isn't it?"

"It's only the truth." Blumiere continued working. His movements were slightly more forced than natural, but he no longer cared. "Blumiere, I know I've made many mistakes in my life. I've had to live with my regrets. What I did to her was… perhaps harsher than necessary." Blumiere shook his head disappointingly. It seemed physical appearance was the only thing that had changed about his father. "But I had my reasons for what I did."

Blumiere turned around in his chair now. "And what were they? I'm curious."

Beauregard paused, as if trying to choose his words. "She was a human, Blumiere. She doesn't belong with us."

"According to you."

"I didn't want you to suffer the same way I had. I couldn't bear to see that."

Blumiere could only laugh. "Well, it's a good thing you were there. Now, she's out there suffering because of me. That's what I get to live with. Is that what you wanted?"

"Of course not. I didn't think it would get this far."

"How far were you expecting?" Blumiere almost shouted.

Beauregard paused for a moment. "I'm aware, Blumiere. I did not think it through. But it's useless trying to change the past."

"I made her a promise. I swore I would make her happy, and I'm going to keep that promise." It was the same thing he'd told himself so many times before, the only thing he had left to cling to. "If I have to rip this universe apart to do it, I will."

"You don't understand, Blumiere. You'll get nothing from this search." He bowed his head slightly, as if trying to remember. "What became of her… What I did… She could be anywhere at any one time. Even if you were to find her… It wouldn't be her."

"I don't care." It was all Blumiere could do to withhold his temper. "It's as I said. She's waiting for me to keep my promise to her, and I intend to fulfill it." Turning back to the map, he focused on his task once more.

"You'll never find her," he repeated. Blumiere ignored the comment, shuffling through the mass of papers that lay in front of him. "I would bring her back myself if I could, but…"

That was it… his regret. Whether he intended to or not, he had exposed his vulnerability. _Two years too late,_ Blumiere thought. Whatever else his father had tried to say trailed off into nothingness. Blumiere shook his head dejectedly at the meaninglessness of the man's words. He turned around one more time to face his father. He shrugged his shoulders, raising his hands to either side, asking, "What do you want from me?"

Beauregard hesitated, searching his thoughts for an answer. Finally, desperate, he replied, "I want my son back. I want to see Blumiere again."

Blumiere let out a short, hollow, humorless laugh. "Blumiere died the day she disappeared."

Beauregard nodded, not seeming to have expected a different answer. He looked up at his former son, the man who had died with his lover. He almost smiled at the irony. "Then who am I talking to now?"

Blumiere pondered the question for a moment, never losing eye contact with his father. In a cold, indifferent tone, he replied, "I don't know anymore." With that, he turned away from his father and sat at his desk, finished with the pointless conversation that only wasted more of his once precious time. Once again, the interruption had ruined his concentration, but he remained diligently fixed to the desk, refusing to move away. Soon, the chill of silence pervaded the room, and he became surrounded by a feeling so familiar to him now, he didn't need to check to be certain.

He was alone.

A long, deep breath escaped from him involuntarily. Sitting back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling as the loneliness crept over him. He didn't mind it. In fact, it had been his preference for the past couple of years. He didn't wish to be seen crying in front of the others, much less have to bear their condolences. He was through crying now, though—his tears had long since dried up.

By then, the power of loneliness seemed his only friend, his reality. Happiness was long gone, and even now the sorrow and pain he'd known began to numb, worn out and tired in its fruitless endeavors. He felt nothing now. And so he wished to be alone, surrounded by the nothingness to which he could relate. Beyond this shell, life held no more meaning.

Except…

Blumiere stooped forward in his seat as a thought tickled his mind. Perhaps it was possible…

_No,_ he thought. _What would that accomplish? Nobody has found happiness from it._ He almost laughed at the pointless remark. It wasn't as if happiness was something he could miss. Still, it was something he couldn't take lightly. His father had always warned him of the dangers. As much as he hated his father now, it was perhaps the one thing he had done right.

But there was nowhere else to turn.

Slowly, Blumiere got to his feet and organized the maps into a neat pile. He set them to the side and then turned to the door. He closed it, locking it from the inside as he did every day. Then, he removed his outer clothing, and glided to the makeshift bed he had created for himself, lying down on the hard mattress. This was an important decision, and he couldn't choose too hastily. He would think it over and then, tomorrow, he would act. Two years he had spent searching for his answer… He could wait one more night…

* * *

**The second to last chapter has been revealed. I hope it's good. I've kinda had this chapter set aside for awhile.**

**Anyway, stay tuned for the conclusion to this story! Next week, Chapter 13 will be published! (I promise. NO MORE DELAYS this time!)**


	13. Fate

**So this is it... We've come to the end of the road. It's been a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you guys have had just as much fun reading! There've been some hang-ups, but now this story will go into the collection of things I've actually managed to finish (a small but slowly growing field)! So, without further ado, I present to you the end of one story and the beginning of another: The final chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 13: Fate**

_The Dark Book…_

After hours of searching, the black-bound tome finally lay before him. He slowly removed it from its resting place behind the shelf and ran his finger down the leathery spine. It was surprisingly smooth considering its ancient history, protected no doubt by some invisible spell within. The front cover was pure black, outlined by small red streaks, which encircled a perfectly spherical sapphire embedded in the center. Its pages still shined white as if they had been printed merely days ago, contrasting brightly with the dark exterior of its protective cover. Blumiere admired the tantalizing beauty of this treasure, his final hope. Tenderly, he placed one hand over the glossy cover and began to open it…

"Blumiere!" The low, solemn tone of Beauregard rang through the room. "What are you doing?" Blumiere turned to face his father, the Book of Prophecy still in his hands. He had hoped his father would have been distracted from his actions long enough, but it mattered not. Blumiere gazed back at him, no sign of regret in his eyes for his actions. His father's face, upon noticing the book, transformed from surprise to outright horror. "Why do you have that book? What are you doing?"

Realizing the inconvenience of opening the book in front of him, Blumiere quickly dashed toward the door where his father stood. Beauregard was flabbergasted just long enough to miss his chance at stopping him. Soon, he came to his senses and gave chase. Blumiere wasted no time, gliding through the hallway and up the spiral staircase. Remembering well the passages of the castle, he counted the doors that flew by him until he reached his destination. Swerving to his right, he opened one of the doors and dashed in, shutting it behind him. He waved his hand over the door, locking it just as his father caught up to him.

At first, he worried that his father would simply undo the spell, but to his delight, Beauregard was too distraught to think clearly, resorting to beating at the door to force his entry. "Blumiere!" he cried. "Blumiere, listen!" Blumiere backed from the door, ever watchful, but he knew its hinges were strong. It would take a long time for his father to break it down. "Blumiere, my son, don't! Not even your ancestors could handle that dark book!"

Blumiere continued to gaze at the door, holding the book in his hands. The legacy of untold secrets were just within his grasp… The secrets of the future… Perhaps… perhaps he might even learn of Timpani's fate. Whatever the case, it was certain he would not part with it, no matter what his father might say. "Is this not what you wanted, Father?" he asked spitefully. "If love is out of my reach, then power is the only thing left for me… even uncontrollable power."

"No!" The door rang louder with his father's relentless pounding. "If you open that book, there's no telling what may happen! This is a mistake, Blumiere! Nobody before you who saw that book has ever found happiness from it."

Anger welled up within Blumiere. Filled with rage, he shouted, "You dare speak to me about happiness! She was my happiness, and you stole her from me! A world without her is empty!" He gazed down at the book once more. "A _life_ without her is empty." He raised the book up to eye level, as if to prove his point. "This is all I have left." The banging on the door stopped. His father's panic was beginning to cease. It was only a matter of time before he would come to his senses completely. Wasting no time, Blumiere rushed to his desk and slammed the book down, flipping through the solid pages with haste.

As if by magic—perhaps it _was _magic—the pages continued to flip away without the aid of his hand, until it rested somewhere in the middle. Blumiere's eyes darted around the pages, but curiously enough did not find his name. One passage, for no apparent reason, caught his eye. Unwilling to wait, he began to read the lines, scrutinizing each word slowly so as not to miss anything. He soon found the precaution unnecessary. As his eyes passed by each word, the text seemed to imprint itself into his memory, never slipping from his recollections. His pace began to quicken, his eyes gaining speed across the sacred lines. His mind swallowed every word until he no longer read the book but consumed it, skimming through the pages with haste. Each image burned into his skull, finding a permanent place to settle within his mind.

The text began to swell within his consciousness, intermixing with the memories of his past. It was a strange new thing… a powerful thing. The cache of information flowed into him, rushing to overwhelm him completely. Soon, his memories as Blumiere began to fade, powerless and irrelevant compared to this new being that devoured his thoughts. He could feel it begin to control him, his body, his actions… as if a living creature were crawling into his head. Slowly, he felt his identity diminish, making room for this new, powerful entity, until all that remained was the book. And in that moment of cleansing, the name Blumiere was forgotten, and a new, more suitable persona was whispered into his ears, softly at first but rising in volume until it overwhelmed every sound, every sight, every thought…

_Bleck…_

"…on… My son…" A small voice tickled his ear, rousing him from his slumber. "Wake up… Please, my son. Wake up…" Once his ringing ears began to calm, the voice became more distinct. "Are you there? Speak to me, my boy! Come to your senses!" He opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. For some reason, he was on the ground. Had he passed out? "Oh, thank goodness!" The incessant noise continued to bother him. Finally, he looked up and found the source.

A man… not very handsome at that. His pitch-black skin seemed almost to blend with the walls that surrounded him. The one sign of his face were the two red slits that were his eyes. Only his bright white cloak and the matching hat in his hand gave him any sort of silhouette. The man was shaking him, trying to stir him back to reality. "My son, are you alright? Blumiere…"

At the sound of that name, his memories rushed back to him. With a swift hand, he grabbed the crying man by the throat, raising himself to his feet in the process. The man's red eyes gaped in horror into the eyes of his predator. His body shook uncontrollably. "Blu-Blumiere! Don't do this! Blumiere!"

He raised the screaming man higher, so that he no longer touched the ground. Glaring into the eyes of his pitiful victim, he replied, "Blumiere is no more. I am Count Bleck… and no one shall stand in my way!" At that, a surge of power ran up his arm and struck the man. His scream was cut short as he was reduced to a cloud of smoke. His clothes tumbled through thin air to the ground.

Count Bleck took a step back and admired the handiwork of his newfound strength. Not a trace of the weeping man remained. The white cloak lay in a heap where its master once stood, the hat resting to the right. To the left lay a slick, crimson scepter with a crystal embedded on top. Count Bleck retrieved the cloak and hat, donning them both. Then, he stooped down and grabbed the shining scepter, examining its smooth surface. The crystal, he noticed, would make an effective vessel for his powers.

Once his preoccupations were satisfied, he could sense the voice of the Dark Book ringing in his head once more, telling him what he must do. Count Bleck closed his eyes and listened intently to the words of his new master. The prophecy within his mind was simple and easily understood. Opening his eyes, he reached out and raised the Book of Prophecy from its resting place on the desktop. As he looked upon the deadly book, he began to speak. "All worlds have become empty and meaningless to me, observed Bleck. Fitting then, that I should be the one to destroy them. Every last inch of these pathetic worlds will be no more, and then… only chaos will reign…"

Outside the castle, the dark residents shuddered in fear as a piercing noise rang out from the normally quiet palace. The voice echoed across the town, so that all within a mile could hear it, the insane battle cry of their new foe…

"BLEH HEH HEH HEH! BLECK!"

Darkness… That was all she knew. Where was she? What had happened? What was going on? An uncontrollable fear gripped her, a fear of the unknown. Was this her fate for all eternity? Was she doomed to be trapped here forever?

A bright light shone from far away, stifling her questions. Soon, the comforting light grew brighter… filling her with a glowing warmth. As the light faded, the forms around her began to take shape. She was in a house, a blue house filled with odd trinkets. The source of the light faded completely and in its place stood a strange man garbed in blue and sporting a rather large white mustache. "Are you alright?" the man asked.

Unsure of herself, she responded, "I-I think so…" Her voice was very high-pitched, which came to her as a surprise. Had she always talked like that? Considering the many questions that rushed to her mind, she decided to start with the most pertinent. "Who are you?"

The man gave a short bow and replied, "I am called Merlon." Not wanting to seem rude, she tried to lift herself up to greet him, but her body felt odd and clumsy. "Rest for now… The transfer is nearly complete, but you are not yet used to your new body."

This information startled her. "Wh-what do you mean?" She tried to look at herself, but she could not, as if her eyes extended beyond her body. Reluctantly, the blue-garbed man took out a pocket mirror and placed it next to her. It was then that she realized how big the man really was. The mirror itself was larger than her! Slowly, timidly, she stepped towards the mirror and gazed into it.

It reflected a butterfly, but not any butterfly she had ever seen before (Had she ever seen one? She couldn't remember). It was about twice as large as a normal one, and its wings weren't connected to the body but rather floated an inch apart, as if held together by some sort of electric field. Colors of every hue could be seen on the wings, glowing translucently. It was, by all standards, a very beautiful butterfly, but…

…But it could not be her.

She couldn't accept that what she saw in the mirror was her own reflection. It didn't make sense. But whatever movement she tried to make, the devious imposter imitated her flawlessly. The more she looked, the more likely it seemed.

As if reading her mind, Merlon explained, "You were very weak when we found you… We tried to restore you to good health, but…" He turned away. "You would not have made it through the night. I had to act quickly. So I did the one thing I could think to do…"

It was a very hard thing to wrap her mind around. Oddly enough, she was not afraid. Other than her slight intrigue at the strangeness of the situation, she did not feel fear or concern. As a matter of fact, she was completely indifferent. Still, something wasn't right. "Why can't I remember anything?" she asked.

Merlon did not answer this question at once. After a few moments' hesitation, he replied, "Whatever torture you endured before we found you had already stripped you of your memories… There was nothing left."

"Nothing," she repeated, trying to remember. She tried to find some sort of recollection to cling to for support, but nothing came to her. As the reality of her situation became apparent, she was strangely calm. Her past was not important, after all. If she had no memory of it, so be it. "Do I have a name?"

"That I do not know either, I'm afraid," said Merlon. "If you so wish, you may choose to be called by the name of the Pixl that you possess. Her name was Tippi."

"Tippi," she murmured to herself. It wasn't really a great name, but she accepted it willingly, giving in to the inevitable truth of her situation. Whatever she might have experienced before was unknown and in any case irrelevant. This was her life now. Following Merlon's advice, she lay down, a bit clumsily at first, and closed her eyes, resting to prepare for the first day of her strange new life.


End file.
